


It Started With A Whisper

by SnowWhiteKnight



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghost Hunters, Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, American Horror Story (TV Series), Death is only the beginning, Dreams, Dungeons & Dragons, F/M, Ghost Hunt (TV Series), Ghost Hunters, Ghostbusters (movie) - Freeform, Ghosts, Happy halloween, Haunted Hotel, Inspired By, Magic, Psychics, Rituals, Spirits, Spooky, Supernatural (TV series), Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-28 05:44:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8433973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowWhiteKnight/pseuds/SnowWhiteKnight
Summary: Fed up with creeps from dating sites and apps, Sansa Stark joins a penpal site on the recommendation of her cousin and is matched with Sandor Clegane. She hits it off with him immediately, but is he more than he seems?





	1. Penpal

“Ugh!” she cried as she closed and locked the door behind her. She kicked off her heels and unzipped her dress. One of the perks of living alone, she could walk around naked and no one would complain about it. She threw the dress in the hamper and dug through her closet to find her favorite comfy outfit, a worn out t-shirt that had seen better days and a pair of Big Bird pajama bottoms.

She plopped down in front of her computer and jostled the mouse, bringing the monitor to life. A chat window popped up from her brother Jon.

**lordsnow: Sooooo...how’d it go?**

**songbyrd: Do you remember "uncle" Petyr? From when we were kids?  So glad Aunt Lysa kicked him to the curb.**

**lordsnow: uh… yes? oh gods, did you get matched up with him?**

**songbyrd: thankfully, no. but this guy made him look like an altar boy. Actually had to MACE him. He's in police custody now.**

**lordsnow: yikes!!! maybe you should try a different site?**

**songbyrd: if there are any left to try, sure. but i’ve done them all at this point.**

**lordsnow: even the knightsandmaidens.com?**

**songbyrd: …**

**lordsnow: what?**

**songbyrd: that one is for people who want penpals. Or email pals. Or fuck buddies. Not really a romance site.**

**lordsnow: you never know. and if nothing else, you’ll make some new freinds.**

**lordsnow: friends***

**songbyrd: maybe. I’ll think about it.**

**lordsnow: if it helps, I joined it. same username as here. it stresses getting to know the other person first, and letting anonymity be helpful. I met this great guy on there. super friendly. we’re going ot meet up tomorrow to get coffee and go see a movie. His name’s Ygritte.**

**songbyrd: sounds fun. let me know how it goes?**

**lordsnow: of course!**

Sansa sighed. She tapped her fingernails on the keyboard. Letting out a huff, she opened a browser and typed in the site name. _No harm in just trying it, right? It’ll probably end up the same as all the other sites I’ve tried, and then I can prove Jon wrong about it. Yeah, spite your “stupid, gorgeous, never has trouble meeting nice people” brother! You’ll show him! Ugh, I need more friends...just so I can socialize and not go crazy._

She took a deep breath and clicked on “Join now!”

**********

The next day, she received a message from Jon.

**lordsnow: OMG YGRITTE IS NOT A DUDE. I REPEAT. YGRITTE IS NOT A DUDE. SHE IS AN EXTREMELY PRETTY NOT A DUDE. AND WE’RE GOING OUT AGAIN.**

**songbyrd: Idiot. Have fun on your DATE. HAHAHAHA**

**lordsnow: Jerk. I WILL.**

She giggled as a notification chimed from her computer.

_Knights And Maidens: You have been matched with TheHound. Would you like to send a message? Yes to accept, No to ignore._

Sansa sighed and drummed her fingers on the desktop. “Sure. Why not?”

**********

**Six months later**

She leaned out of the window, enjoying the fresh night breeze. Another date, another wasted evening. He had been nice enough, but he had been staring so hard at her chest, she seriously doubted he even knew what color her eyes were by the end of it. No matter. She still had _him._

He was one of the three people she chose to be penpals with on the Knights and Maidens website. The other two were women, Shae and Brienne. She had met them in person already and absolutely adored them. Sansa now worked at the same hotel as Brienne, which had been a complete coincidence.

She didn’t know his full name, didn’t know what he looked like, but she did know he liked animals better than people, that he liked camping but detested starting a campfire, and lots of other little things that had endeared him to her. She knew he was older than her, by fourteen years, but when they got along so well, did it really matter? She knew he was a vet, both a veteran and a veterinarian, specializing in exotic animals. She knew he liked to drink on occasion. She knew he had a lewd sense of humor, and was not afraid of offending anyone with it. She knew he liked sex. A lot. Their recent delvings into phone sex had been amazing, and his wonderfully raspy, deep voice has sent shivers down her spine. She also knew that he was nervous about relationships, for good reason, he would say, but never any specifics.

She wanted to know more, but that was outside of the rules he had set. The package that he sent was sitting next to her computer. She hadn’t had time to open it before her date, but having feigned illness (does it count if you’re allergic to boring, boob obsessed men?) she was now home earlier than she had anticipated. Her phone rang. Answering it, she also picked up the box cutter, balancing the phone between her ear and shoulder while she reached for the box.

 _“Hey, how’d the date go?”_ Arya asked.

“Hello to you, too. It was ok, I guess? He was staring though.”

_“Boobs or ass?”_

“Boobs. I mean, I have a nice set, but seriously, it was too much.”

_“Ha! Well, at least you got a free meal out of it? What are you going to do now? Still early.”_

“I’m not sure,” she murmured as she cut the box open. “Might just put on some jammies and watch some WesFlix. Oh!” She nearly dropped the phone in surprise.

_“Something wrong?”_

“No, I just...my pen pal, Sandor, sent me something. It surprised me, that’s all.”

_“Is it a dick in a box?”_

“Arya!”

_“What? That would definitely be a surprise. Plus, there are kits you can buy to make dildos, so theoretically, he could have made a copy of his own dick to send to you. Hell, there’s kits for making chocolate dicks.”_

“Well, that’s something I didn’t need to know, and no, it’s not a dildo. It’s chocolate. Very expensive chocolate. Before you ask, not a chocolate dick. It’s from Hot Pie’s.”

_“Ooh. You know, you always were my favorite sibling.”_

“Nice try. Everyone knows that’s Jon.” He really was more of a brother than a cousin.

_“Damn me and my obviousness!”_

“Get Pod to buy you some. He's making bank at his new job, isn't he? You probably won’t even like these. There’s no coconut. I have to get going. WesFlix and these chocolates are calling to me.”

_“Fine. See you on Sunday.”_

Arya hung up before Sansa could respond. She turned the phone screen off and placed it next to her computer. Turning the monitor on, she logged into her email to find the expected unread message waiting for her.

 **To: S. Stark (singinrain@wintermail.com)** ****  
**From: Hound (hound03@wsm.net)** **  
** **Subject: RE: More**

 **Sent you a package, little bird. Saw those and thought of you. If you still want...more, let me know. We can talk after you look at the** **_entire_ ** **contents of the box. This is the best I can do right now.**

**\--Sandor**

She lifted the chocolates out of the box. They were from her favorite confectioner, Hot Pie’s Sweet Shoppe. Three dozen truffles, all shaped like little birds. Each species of bird was a different flavor. She had seen them in the store window just last week and had been tempted to buy them, but they were a little (ok, a lot) more than she could justify spending on a snack.

Underneath the chocolates was a thin manila envelope. Setting the chocolates to the side, she lifted the envelope out of the box and opened it. Three glossy four by six photos were inside it, along with a short handwritten letter. _He did it! He sent me photos of himself! Why not just email them?_ she wondered.

The first two photos were of him from the waist up. He was fit, she noticed admiringly. She knew he was, he had emailed her dick pics and photos of his naked body, but he always angled the camera so that his face was never showing. He had hooked his thumbs into his belt loops. The cotton t-shirt he wore was snug, showing off his muscular body. His head was to the side, only showing the profile of his face, his shoulder length black hair tucked behind his ear. She didn’t see why he had made such a big fuss before. He wasn’t beautiful, like that model J. Lannister, but he had a nice face. It was pleasant to look at. She switched to the last photo and immediately dropped them, her hands covering her mouth in horror. This one was a close up of him, fully facing the camera. Half his face was a twisted mass of flesh. _What… He’s a burn victim...how...why did he never mention this?_ She immediately felt guilty for her reaction. It was answer enough. _To be fair, if he had warned me, I would not have had such an extreme reaction._ She bent down to pick up the photos. His handwritten letter caught her eye.

 _Little bird,_  
_Hopefully, you’re still willing to hear from me after seeing the photo. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I wanted to, but I didn’t want to scare you off either._ _  
-Sandor_

She stared at the close up of him. After the initial shock wore off (no denying that it was indeed shocking), she was able to take a better look.

He was still nice to look at. The scars didn’t deter from his essence. He was still _him._ That look in his eyes, she felt like he was staring right at her, into her very soul. He looked very vulnerable.  Lightly touching the photo, she trailed her fingertips along the slope of his mouth. She wondered what his kisses would feel like.

Picking up her phone, she unlocked it and dialed his number.

 _“Little bird,”_ he said breathlessly when he answered.

“Did I catch you running or pleasuring yourself?” she asked with a grin. It had happened before.

 _“Running, pervert.”_ She giggled. _“Did you...did you get my package?”_

“I’ve been waiting for your _package_ for a while now.” He barked a laugh at that. “I did, thank you. How did you know those chocolates were on my wish list?”

 _“Educated guess. So you haven’t looked at the rest of the contents then?”_ He sounded disappointed.

“No, I did. I’m looking at the photos right now.” She was sitting at her kitchen table, the three photos spread out in front of her. His closeup was right in the middle. “You have beautiful eyes. Like Valyrian steel,” she said softly.

He snorted, but she could hear the relief in his voice, _“You’re such a poet.”_

“Yeah, I suppose I am a bit.” She paused for a moment. “Does it...does it hurt?”

 _“No. Nerves are dead. Only discomfort it causes is when people stare.”_ He sounded uncomfortable.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to--”

_“It’s fine. You’re still talking to me. More than I can ask of you.”_

“Oh, that's _all_ you can ask for? So I guess you don’t want to come over and have some of these delicious chocolates, and enjoy some WesFlix and Chill?”

_“WesFlix and Chill? Isn’t that…”_

“Yes, I just invited you over to my place for _that._ You interested?” She bit her lip nervously.

_“Fuck...yes! I am definitely interested, except I have a... Crap, I can't think straight... a business thing... I have to do after my run, heading back now actually. Emergency call...fuck…”_

She laughed. He really did sound frustrated and she wondered if he was currently sporting a boner as he jogged. “It’s alright. We should probably start slower anyway. Coffee? Tomorrow? You can choose when and where. I’m available all day.”

_“Coffee, yes. I will text you tomorrow.”_

“Goodnight, Sandor.”

_“Goodnight, Sansa. Little bird.”_

“JustsoyouknowI’llbetakingyourphotoswithmetobed,” she said in a rush before hanging up the phone. She got a text a few moments later.

**Sandor: I hope you’re proud of yourself. Now I have to jerk off as soon as I get home.**

She laughed, sent him back a winky face and a photo of herself kissing his printed image, and gathered up her presents. She was looking forward to watching a silly romcom and later using her vibrator as she stared at Sandor’s photos.

**********

Sandor emerged from the shower to hear his phone ring again. While he doubted it was the little bird again, he was still disappointed when he saw Beric's name. “Yeah, I'm on my way,” he said as a greeting.

_“Was just about to ask. I can pick you up if you haven't left yet.”_

“Sure. Did Lollys say what it was?”

_“Level three apparition, practically dripping ectoplasm. Blue, not green. Mischievous but not harmful.”_

“Alright then, let's go hunt some ghosts.”

**********

“So…”

“So?” Sandor looked over at Beric. They were on their way back to Sandor’s place after a successful ghost busting. Bronn and Tormund had the ghost in a trap case and were on their way back to the office to store it in the containment field, aka Limbo. They would work with the ghost, try to help it move on, but for now, it would be simply contained. There had been two, but they had only been able to save one. The other had to be put down, and vanquished to nothingness.

“So did you hear back from your non-girlfriend-who-is-totally-your-girlfriend? You sent her the chocolate and photos, didn't you?”

He groaned, regretting telling his friends about Sansa. “Yeah, I sent them. And confirmed she received them. She called me after Lollys texted me about the job.”

“And?”

He rolled his eyes. “And we're having coffee tomorrow. At the same time. In the same place. Maybe even at the same table as each other.”

“That’s great! Told you that you were worried for nothing,” Beric said. “She’s different. Even I could tell that just from hearing you talk about her.”

“I know, I know.”

Beric smiled. “Open the glove box. I got something for you. A present because I _knew_ it would work out for you.”

Sandor shook his head, feeling quite embarrassed, and opened the glove box. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he growled. He pulled a small box out. “Seriously? Chekhov’s Magnums? You got me condoms? _That_ is not a present. _That’s_ being an ass. What if it hadn’t gone well? What then?”

“Obviously, I would have kept the box for myself.”

“Ass.”


	2. The Hunt Begins

**Day 1, 11:45am**

“Are you almost done?” Brienne asked.

“Yeah, I just need to finish ten more cancellations, then I’ll be taking the rest of the day off.” Sansa was busy clicking away at the computer, her fingers flying over the keyboard. She hated that it had to be done, but there was no getting around the fact that the hotel would have to close for the immediate future.

“Oh, right, you get to meet Mr. Perfect today, don’t you?” Brienne was smirking. Sansa just smiled. “Well, I’ll just leave you to it then. Let me know if you need any help.”

“Mmhmm.”

Brienne walked out, her shoes clicking on the tile floor. Sansa kept working, assigning the guests to new hotels, and burning through favors her aunt had built up one by one. She was down to the last two cancellations when she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. _Someone’s watching me._ She turned quickly to the source, but no one was there. The feeling persisted as she hurried to finish and get out of there. It wasn’t the first time she had felt this, though sometimes there _was_ someone there, which was just worse. _Hopefully, this will be solved soon._

**********

**2:17pm**

Sandor jiggled his knee, nervous and wishing he was anywhere but here. The coffee shop was one he frequented but he had never really been here when the sun was up. _So many people…_ They were all staring at him, he just knew it. _And they'll stare even more once the most beautiful woman in the world walks through the door._

The door jangled, and _she_ walked in. Her hair was set aflame as the morning sun shone upon her. Her eyes scanned the room until she saw him. A brief instant, and Sandor expected to see disgust or horror. Instead, her eyes lit up and a genuine smile blossomed. He stood up awkwardly as she walked towards him and emitted a grunt as she sprung a hug on him. He heard a few gasps from the people watching, but soon forgot the world even existed as she pulled him down for a kiss. The line from The Princess Bride came to mind as her shy, but determined kiss drew him from his nervousness.

“Hi,” she whispered with a small smile when they finally broke apart. “I've been wanting to do that for ages.”

“Everything you expected?” he asked and then wanted to kick himself. She murmured a _gods yes_ and moved to kiss him again, but a pointed cough stopped her.

She laughed, a bit embarrassed, and said, “Oops. Guess I got a bit carried away. I'm going to go order a coffee. Don't go anywhere.”

“I don't think I can walk out of here without something to cover the situation in my jeans,” he admitted. She giggled and kissed his cheek.

“Whatever you do, _don't_ think of Mayor Baratheon in a polka dot bikini.”

Sandor grimaced as his cock withered at the thought the fat man. “Ok, I'm good. Possibly for the next month.”

“Aawwww, I didn't mean to go that far…”

He just laughed and pushed her towards the counter. “I'll be right here.” She hopped from foot to foot, impatient to get her drink and get back to him. His heart was beating faster than usual. _This is actually happening._

She had just sat down with her coffee when her phone rang. “I am so sorry, it’s work,” she said. She answered the phone with a terse, _“What?!”_ A few moments of silence. “Right now?? Are you sure? You can’t get anyone else to-- Ok, but I’m-- Well, no, I wouldn’t want--” Whoever she was talking to was not a particularly polite person. “Fine, I’ll be there in a few minutes.” She hung up angrily.

“Trouble?”

“Seems like it, and my boss is making me come back in to deal with it. He's been impossible lately, and he's usually a really nice guy.” She sighed. “And right when I have you in front of me, too…” She looked up at him. “Forgive me? I’ll make it up to you.” Her phone rang again. “Oh, I’m going to kill him. Will you excuse me for a moment?” She answered her phone as she walked outside.

Sandor’s phone rang as well. “Lollys?” he answered.

_“Sorry if I’m interrupting, but we’ve got a call. Beric’s on his way to pick you up.”_

“Yeah, I’ll be ready.”

**********

“Sorry about breaking up the date,” Beric said as Sandor slid into the passenger seat. He was still a little woozy from the goodbye kiss she had given him.

“It’s fine. She had a work emergency, too. I’m going over to her place tomorrow night.”

“Good for you. Ok, so the place we’re going to actually isn’t that far from here. You could have walked, but I didn’t realize that when I told Lollys I’d pick you up. Ah, here we are. The Eyrie Hotel. It’s actually famed for being haunted, but they’ve been having a problem with ghosts for the past month beyond the normal scope, but someone was hiding the change. The day manager had no idea until the owner, likely the one covering it up, informed him after a guest was attacked. She’s in the hospital, comatose, and won’t be much help unless she wakes up. I just came from there, no residual EMF or PKE readings. The day manager’s supposed to be meeting us. The hotel has been evacuated, all guests have been rerouted to other hotels if they couldn’t cancel them outright, so the place will be clear for us. Bronn and Tormund should be inside already with the equipment.”

When they walked inside, Bronn and Tormund had the equipment set up in the lobby and were talking to someone of the female persuasion. Sandor could tell because of the stance Bronn was in. It was his, “I’m so manly, look at my crotch and imagine how huge my dick is” stance. It was annoying, since the women he used it on usually went home with him. The one woman he couldn't use it on was the one woman he wanted, but unless Bronn decided to ever talk to her, he'd probably never leave his endless of loop of one night stands. He almost felt sorry for the poor woman Bronn was currently talking to.

He heard part of the conversation as they walked up. “--can show you where the incidents happened. I haven’t seen anything, but Brienne, the sales manager, is quite familiar with it all. She would have told me sooner, but the owner _forbid_ her from doing so. I will be dealing with him as soon as possible. This isn’t the sort of thing you just _hide._ You know?”

“Yeah, I know, sweetheart,” Bronn drawled. “Shame that… You know, I know a great place for drinks, if you’d like to vent a bit about this boss of yours.”

Sandor heard a delicate laugh. A laugh he knew all too well. “Sorry, already have plans.”

“Maybe tomorrow--”

“She has plans, jackoff. Take the fucking hint,” Sandor growled, pushing Bronn to the side. Sansa squealed and jumped into his arms, hugging him tightly and kissing him like she was sending him off to war.

“Sandor, what are you doing here?” she asked breathlessly. Bronn was staring, his eyes nearly bugging out in surprise. Tormund was chuckling to himself, and went back to getting the equipment they would be taking with them ready. He led her away from prying ears, watching as Tormund started making a fool of himself for the woman known as Brienne. He always was a sucker for tall, brawny women. He and Bronn started bickering as she led them to the sighting sites in the hotel. Beric was sitting at the control station, monitoring the various data feeds.

“I’m here to take care of your ghost problem. Are you the day manager here? I thought you were a working at a law firm? Doing the accounting or something?” They sat down on a couch off to the side.

“I was. Until a week ago. I wasn’t sure I would keep this job, so I didn’t mention it.”

“Seems like a cushy job, once we get rid of your problematic ghost,” he said, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

“Before that… I thought you were a _veterinarian_ ,” she said with a giggle.

“What? Why would you think that?”

“You said you worked with exotic creatures, capturing and studying them to make them better, to help them move on to the next phase.”

“Oh...I do...they’re just usually… dead?” She stared at him, then started giggling. “What?”

“You… you’re…” She smiled. “A dream.” She leaned closer and kissed him.

“You know, if this was a horror movie, that means we absolutely cannot have sex.” He hated himself as soon as the words left his lips. _What is wrong with me?!_

She frowned. “What? Are you sure? That doesn’t seem right. I thought it was not separating.”

“That, too. No drinking, no drugs. Standard operating procedure, to be honest. Also, never say ‘Hello?’, ‘Who’s there?’ or ‘I’ll be right back.’ If it’s a sequel, then there are additional rules.”

“You’re a dream, and a dork,” she said, smiling and shaking her head. “This isn’t a movie though, or a scary story. Just your standard run-of-the-mill haunting with a jerk of a ghost who can't enjoy being part of a tourist attraction. Isn’t it?”

“Yeah, far as we can tell. C’mon, you can give me a tour and I’ll do a floor by floor check. Sound good?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Can I hold your hand if I get scared?”

He chuckled. She didn’t seem like the type to get scared easily, but he wasn't about to call her on it. “Of course, little bird.”

**********

Sansa watched Sandor carefully as they walked the halls of the hotel. She had a slight headache from the stress Thoros had dumped in her lap, but Sandor was here and he was going to fix it. Well, him and his friends/coworkers. They had found Bronn, Tormund and Brienne setting up cameras and other monitoring equipment at the locations where ghosts had been sighted on multiple occasions. Sandor was using what he called an EMF, which picked up electromagnetic frequencies, with one hand, while holding hers in the other. A lot of their equipment looked homemade, which she supposed was only natural. The EMF meter was cobbled together from an old Walkman. He let her carry the PKE meter and showed her how to read it.

While ghosts were a common problem, the supply of ghost hunters or ghostbusters was limited due to the fact that it was an occupational hazard to go missing or die. It was only the bravest souls that became ghost hunters. She found it amusing that the surly, daring and brave ghost hunter turned out to be the sweet man she had fallen for. _Maybe he's just like that with me?_ That Bronn fellow had been warning her of his “evil” coworker, comparing him to a gargoyle, which was purposely scary in order to scare away demons. It was also amusing that of everything scary about the situation, it was nothing compared to the look of panic on his face when she took his hand and entwined her fingers with his. She frightened this huge guy, though she was beginning to understand why he was so reluctant before to meet. _He liked me, but didn't want to risk rejection._ The thought made her sad, since he was such an interesting person. She was just going to have to convince him she wasn't joking around.

Neither the EMF nor the PKE were detecting anything yet, though from what she understood, the majority of the activity happened at night.

“So why are you not sure you'll keep this job?” he asked.

“I only took it because the owner is my uncle and long time friend of my mother. He married her sister, my aunt, many years ago. She's been in a coma since last year, brought on after a heart attack. Uncle Thoros is a bit odd in general, would have to be to want to marry Aunt Lysa after her first husband, Aron Santagar, passed away, but lately he's been more and more off. I just don't feel comfortable around him.”

Sandor turned to her. “How uncomfortable?”

“Oh, well, I try not to be alone with him. I actually don’t have a lot of interaction with him and Brienne is great about that, making sure she's with me at all times. We work closely together, so it's not hard. Sometimes I feel like I'm being watched, the hair on the back of my neck stands up, and I'll turn to find him watching me, but it’s like he doesn’t really _see_ me. This was only after I started working here. During those times, I've had this feeling that he’s not himself anymore. He's called me Cat on occasion, more this past week than ever before.”

“Cat?”

She nodded. “My mother's name. They're great friends, and he is one of the few people she allows to call her Cat. I look a lot like her, so the mix up is understandable, but at the same time… I'm worried about him. He has a family history of dementia. Ever since Aunt Lysa… He hasn't been the same. He loves her so much, he'd do just about anything for her.”

“Are you worried about your safety?”

Her brow furrowed. She hated her answer. She loved her Uncle Thoros, he was the fun one on her mom's side, unlike Uncle Edmure. “A little. He's been so secretive and angry lately. And last night I caught him _talking_ to himself, having a conversation with a mirror… After we spoke last night, Brienne called me in. She said he locked himself in the office and that he was arguing with someone. I sent her to the front desk and used my keys to get in… The look in his eyes… It was pure madness. I led him away from the mirror, and there was a moment where his eyes focused on me, and I thought he would...well, I’m not sure what, but the moment passed and it was like he couldn’t see me again.” She didn’t want to mention that she had felt like he would try to kiss her, it was too weird.

“Hmmm… Sounds like he's possessed. Have there been any violent deaths in this hotel?” Sandor asked. They were nearing the end of the hallway.

“Not that I know of, but again, I haven't worked here for long. Came here once as a kid, but it was my sister who liked those kind of details. My brother would know more about the history in general though.” They trekked up a flight of stairs at the end of the hall to the next floor.

“It's fine. Beric is probably getting the property history as we speak.” He squeezed her hand. Something was nagging at the back of her brain, but her headache was preventing her from remembering whatever it was.

**********

**6:00pm**

They got back to the lobby, Brienne was looking annoyed as Tormund chatted incessantly about something. Sansa wanted to laugh. Brienne wasn't used to attention from guys, and assumed they were all making fun of her if they did show an interest. It was a shame, because Brienne was damn fantastic and Tormund was very clearly interested.

There had only been one spike in the EMF and it turned out to be a twitchy lamp. Sandor had laughed and said it sometimes happened. Sansa had laughed it off as well, but she wasn’t so sure. When the EMF had gone off, she thought she had felt cold fingers at the back of her neck, and there had been a slight jump in the PKE, but not enough to register anything other than the lamp.

“Well, this hotel is relatively new, only forty years old,” Beric said, “but, it wasn't the first hotel to be built here. It's the third and largest of the three. Since the first hotel was built over a hundred years ago, there have been hundreds of deaths reported. A lot of them are confirmed suicides, a lot of accidental deaths, and my favorite, a string of murders, for which the killer was never caught.”

Brienne sucked in a breath and Tormund immediately patted her shoulder.

“Don't worry, the killer is long dead. The murders happened a hundred and seventy-two years ago. No one lives that long.” Beric chuckled. “Though some have tried. Also, considering that the murders stopped, and no copycats ever surfaced, we can safely assume the killer did not get tied down to this location. Now, after sifting through everything, besides mysterious/accidental deaths, the serial killer and the suicides, there are also an inordinate amount of missing people that have the hotel as the last place spotted. How this never came to light before is a mystery, but it is not as as bad as it seems. We need to identify what sort of entities we're dealing with. ‘Killing’ a ghost isn't that hard, but we need to make sure that's what you've got. You also pride yourself on being a haunted hotel, so we need to make sure to leave the ‘good’ ghosts alone, and just weed out the ‘bad’ ghost.”

Tormund got up and handed out some steampunk looking gauntlets. “These are effective against any kind of supernatural entity, though it will not kill them. It's to allow you to get away. If it's a ghost, flip this cord around,” he pointed to a metal band that encased the knuckles of the gauntlets for Brienne and Sansa's benefit, “and you have the ability to kill them. This won't work on any other entity, so make sure before you flip it.”

Sansa looked at Sandor who was absently playing with the gauntlet. He had let go of her hand as soon as they got to the lobby and saw his teammates there. He wasn't the warm funny guy she knew from online chatting and phone calls. He was a stranger, a mask of his true self. It hurt to know he was using it around her, though she understood it. She placed her hand next to his, just barely touching him. _Please don't shut me out._ He jumped a little when their skin touched, but when he looked at her, he gave her the smallest of smiles. It made her hope.

“Ok, now the boring bit,” Beric was saying. “We will sleep in shifts, so that there will always be at least two people monitoring the feeds. There's six of us, so we can have three shifts of two, the middle shift overlapping the other two by an hour or three. Sound good? Good.”

“I'll take the first shift,” Brienne said. “I'm normally up fairly late, so I'll be alert.”

“I'll take first shift too,” Tormund volunteered, a little too quickly. Sansa wanted to giggle again at her friend's look of annoyance at the man, but Brienne would have killed her.

“I'll take second shift,” Sandor said. He turned to her and asked quietly, “If you're ok with that?”

“That's fine. You and me, on second shift?”

“Yeah. You and me,” he said so softly, she almost didn't hear him.

“That leaves Bronn and me for third. We'll start that part after the sun sets. For now, Tormund, why don't you explain what you'll be looking for to Ms. Tarth. Sandor, Ms. Stark, let's have a seat. You can tell me what you found on the sweep.”

The conversation was short, since they hadn’t found anything, but Beric asked them to make another sweep during the night, during the overlap of the second and third shifts.. _Oh my...this is really happening,_ she thought. _Tonight, I’ll be helping to hunt ghosts._


	3. Pear Shaped

**Day 1, 8:00pm**

Sansa lay awake on the mattress provided. Bronn had convinced her and Brienne to let him bring some mattresses down to the designated resting room. “We’re in a hotel, might as well take advantage of it,” he had said.

Sandor was beside her on another mattress, seemingly asleep, but when she turned to look at him, his eyes were on her. “Can’t sleep either?” she asked. Beric and Bronn were there as well, but both were snoring loudly on the other side of the room.

“The past twenty-four hours have been a bit surreal,” he answered.

“Yeah… I’m glad you sent me the photos and that we met though. Would have made today really strange, because I wouldn’t have known it was you unless you removed your shirt or maybe exposed yourself.”

He chuckled. “You saying you could have identified me by my cock?”

She grinned and shrugged. “Might be. Stared at your dick pics often enough.” He laughed at that and she buried her face in her pillow, giggling wildly. Once she had calmed down, she turned back to him, “I’m just so happy that you’re here in front of me. I was starting to wonder if you were just leading me on.”

Sandor’s jaw clenched, almost like he was in pain, but he got up and pushed his mattress up to hers and lay back down. “I didn’t mean to, you know. I was just…”

She reached up to touch his burnt cheek. “I know. Now, I mean, _now_ I know. I’m not going to lie to you, I was really shocked to see that photo, but considering you never _once_ mentioned it, I think it’s allowed.” He chuckled.

“S’pose you’re right.”

“But...I really like you, Sandor. And I think you like me, too. I don’t want to stop this connection we have. Ever. I…” _I love you._ The words were on the tip of her tongue, but she had a feeling he wasn’t ready to hear it yet. “I just want to be with you and get to know you better.”

“Sansa… When I said I wasn’t good at relationships… It’s just been… The word ‘difficult’ does not even begin to cover it,” he finally said. “When I first started talking to you, I didn’t think… You gave me hope. Something I hadn’t felt in a very long time. I was terrified when you first asked to meet in person. I really wanted to, I just…”

“It’s ok, Sandor. We’ve met now, and I know what your lips taste like.” She grinned and whispered, “I plan to eventually know what you taste like _all_ over.”

It was his turn to bury his face in his pillow. He groaned and she heard him mutter, “You’re going to be the death of me, little bird.” She giggled and scooted closer to him. He let her move his limbs around until they were snuggled together. “But I guess there could be worse ways to go.”

“Don’t die until after you’ve ‘delivered your package’ to me. You made a lot of promises in our phone conversations. I’m going to collect on each and every one of those.” That earned her another groan and whispers in her ear about how he was going to take her home once this was over and she wouldn’t be able to walk for a week after.

She shuddered in excitement and got closer to Sandor as a cold draft settled around them. She snuggled into his arms, feeling like nothing could go wrong.

**********

**Day 3, 4:55am**

Everything was going wrong. They were running down the hallway like their lives depended on it. They possibly did. Sandor skidded along polished tiles as they rounded a corner. “Quick, quick! In here!” he said, throwing open a door and pulling Sansa inside. It was a safety zone that Bronn had set up. Cameras were pointed all over the room, and a magic circle was drawn on the floor. He hurried towards the circle, Sansa following him. Their feet were safely planted inside the circle when the lights began to flicker.

The day before had been calm, but the first full day usually was. It was the control day, the day they measured the rest of the job against. He had enjoyed working with Sansa, teaching her how to hunt ghosts. She was quick to pick up the know how, liked learning from him. He had made so many innuendos and she laughed at each one.

How did this happen? The second day usually picked up a little, and then the third day would pick up a little more, but not like this. It had been a standard sweep. The kind he had done hundreds of times before. The kind they had done twenty-four hours earlier with moderate success of finding the usual ghostly guests the hotel had. Sansa hadn’t been a distraction, she had actually been extremely helpful. In fact, it was her PKE receiver that had gone off on the top floor. He radioed Beric, told him the location of the activity, just in case anything went pear shaped. It had. A ghost with no discernible features had appeared, more of a general person shape, hovering about a foot above the flooring. Sandor had previously told Sansa that if anything appeared, she needed to stay very still and see what it does. He would handle anything. He _could_ handle anything. The ghost had moaned and started moving towards them, and Sansa had kept her cool. Neither of them had done _anything_ to upset or antagonize the damn thing. It had attacked nonetheless, the temperature of the room dropping rapidly as it got angrier. It charged at Sandor, and he managed to mostly duck out of the way, it passed through his hand, drawing blood as its nondescript fingers raked over and through his skin. Sansa had her gauntlet ready and managed to hit it. That was where things had truly gone to all seven hells in a handbasket.

The ghost _should_ have been destroyed. He had seen Sansa flip the knuckles correctly, _it should have destroyed it!_ The ghost seemed to electrify, but was otherwise unharmed. _It’s not a ghost. It’snotaghost! IT’SNOTAGHOST!!_ Sandor had grabbed Sansa’s hand and took off like a madman, yelling at Beric over the radio as they ran.

The magic circle _should_ keep the spirit away from them, keep it from crossing the outer barrier and keep them safe. _Should. It SHOULD. But what if it doesn't?_ he thought frantically. Sansa was clinging to him, scared out of her wits and he absolutely could not blame her. He was the pro and he was pretty damn nervous. The apparition came through the wall and Sandor could feel its unseen eyes on him. He brought his hands together, forming the Lysian symbols for mountain, then rock, and concentrated his energy, “Namaksamada bazaradankan. Namaksamada bazaradankan. Namaksamada bazaradankan.” The spirit slowed, but didn’t stop. He switched and traced the Assaian symbols in the air as he spoke, “Rin, pyo, tou, sha, tai, djin, retsu, zai, zen!”

The spirit was pushed back, hurt, but it wasn't enough. It reared back and charged again. Sandor pushed Sansa out of the way as the ghost picked him up and hurled him into the wall.

**********

Sansa opened her eyes, disoriented from hitting her head. She had fallen...why had she fallen? _Ghosts. Or a ghost, rather. Chasing me, chasing us. Wait...not a ghost… Sandor said, over the walkie, “not a ghost”._ The lights had stopped flickering and the air was back to the normal temperature. One of the video cameras had been knocked over, but before she could do anything, Beric and Bronn burst through the door, nearly taking it off its hinges.

“Where is it?” Beric demanded. “Where's--”

He stopped short, looking around the room. Sansa saw his panic and looked as well. “Oh gods...where's Sandor?” she whispered.

**********

**5:27am**

They were back in the lobby, reviewing the footage. Bronn had been making snide comments, essentially blaming Sansa for Sandor’s disappearance. “I know _I_ never lost a teammate like this one just did.”

“Bronn, knock it off before I do it for you,” Beric said quietly, but firmly. “As far as we know, Ms. Stark is not to blame for this. Here we go, Tormund, rewind it to ten seconds before they enter.”

The five of them stared intently at the screen. Sansa winced when she saw Sandor's attack hit and have little effect. She heard Bronn mutter, “Fuck…” when he saw it. “What the hell is that thing?”

The _thing_ charged at Sandor, picking him up as he had shoved Sansa to the side. Their hands touched, but neither had been able to grab hold of the other. Her heart ached at the memory. Sandor flew, but instead of hitting the wall, he…

“He went _through_ it?!” she shrieked. “How is that possible?? He's solid, extremely solid, not a spirit or something supernatural, so how?!”

Brienne hugged her, rubbing her back in slow circles to soothe her. _How can this be happening? We've only just met! We haven't even been out on a proper date, we haven't seen each others apartments, I haven't hugged him enough, kissed him enough, LOVED him enough. He can't be gone…_ She sobbed into Brienne’s shirt.

“Is Clegane… Is it possible he's still alive?” Brienne asked. Beric was whispering to Tormund, who quickly got up and left, taking Bronn with him.

“I have no idea…” Beric said. “I've never seen a spirit do that. Tor and Bronn are checking outside, in case he did end up on the outside of the building.

_Oh, right, he went through an outer wall,_ Sansa thought. Her sobs were lessening, though she still clung to Brienne. That side of the building had fire escapes, had scaffolding for an upcoming restoration for the building next door, so if he merely phased through the wall, he could be on one of those things. _Or he could be lying dead in the alley._ She sobbed again. Beric and Brienne continued to converse.

“I've never _seen_ this, but I have heard of it before. Well, parts of it... This is no ordinary spirit we're dealing with. There's not really a name for it, but most call it an Oiwa, so named after the first recorded case.”

“You sure it’s not a jibakurei?” Brienne asked. The other two looked at her and she blushed. “Tormund was theorizing earlier when we were setting up the cameras. His description sounds like what you’re calling an Oiwa.”

Beric shook his head. “There’s slight differences. A jibakurei is the spirit of someone who kills themselves, your basic suicide who then regrets it. An Oiwa is someone who dies or kills themselves after being betrayed and can't move on, they're _stuck_ in the final moments of life in a way. Oiwa was a woman whose husband tried to kill her, to poison her and their three children, in order to marry a younger and richer woman. She alone survived, but was left horribly disfigured. Upon finding out it was her husband who tried to kill her, had successfully killed their kids, she committed suicide in a moment of anguish. But while it solved the husband's immediate dilemma, it was only the start of a bigger one. She died, but she wasn't at rest. She roamed the earth as a vengeful spirit, tormenting her husband for his betrayal. She even appeared on his new bride’s face, causing him to behead the innocent woman. She had fallen in love with him not knowing he was married. Her father had him arrested and tried for the crime. He was thrown in prison for years. Still, she followed him, never letting him die. Eventually, his torment ended when he was killed in a riot, an event beyond her reach.”

“So this thing that took Clegane, it's a spirit that feels wronged by him?”

“No. Once her husband was dead, Oiwa had no target anymore. She started going after others, men and women alike. The stories follow her for a few years after her husband's death. She was put to rest by an exorcist who summoned her children’s spirits to calm her.”

“Is that something we can do?” Brienne sounded hopeful.

Beric shook his head. “Not until we find out more about this particular spirit. The indeterminate shape suggests it's a low level spirit, but its abilities contradict that. It obviously has the ability to bend space if it could take Sandor through a wall unharmed. Hiding its identity would be child’s play, and it must be doing that on purpose, trying to trick us. But to what end?”

“Maybe it's easily recognizable? No sign of the Hound outside, boss. We checked around the entire building just to be sure,” Tormund said. Bronn was behind him, looking rather dejected.

“After this, I want you to check this place from bottom to top. If he's not outside, he must be inside. Hmmm, so if it thinks we would recognize it, that must mean one of us has seen it before, possibly when it was still alive. How long have you worked here, Ms. Tarth, Ms. Stark?”

“I've been here for the past ten years. Started when I was in high school. Sansa only started a little while ago.” Brienne was still holding onto Sansa.

“Have any guests had particularly nasty deaths? Or are there any portraits hanging in the hotel that might be our wayward spirit?” Tormund asked her softly.

Brienne shook her head. “No, the only thing to happen in my time here was Mrs. deMyr’s coma. She’s the owner of the hotel, along with her husband, but everything is in her name. We've had many people go missing from their rooms, but unless they skipped out on the bill, Mr. deMyr didn't pursue them. Everyone who checks into this hotel signs a waiver for anything that might happen to them as a result of being a guest. It's usually people who deliberately provoke the ghosts haunting this place. They tend to leave the staff alone, and are even quite helpful at times.”

“Where is he? Mr. deMyr, I mean. He was supposed to come see us and tell us about more of the history of this place,” Bronn said.

Brienne shook her head. “I haven't been able to get a hold of him all night. You, Sansa?”

Sansa sniffled. “I haven't seen him since the day before yesterday, but he called me to come in and help.”

“Alright, sun will be up soon. Ms. Stark, please try to get some rest. We'll wake you in a few hours.” Beric smiled kindly at her and led her to the resting room. “Sandor's suitcase is the yellow one, if you'd like to get one of his shirts. I suspect we won't be going anywhere for a while, and I don't think he'd mind you borrowing his things.”

“Thank you, Mr. Dondarrian.”

“Call me Beric.”

“Thank you, Beric. You may call me Sansa, if you'd like.”

He nodded and shut the door behind him.

**********

“Sansa…”

“Sandor!” She leapt into his arms. “Oh gods, where have you been? We saw you disappear into a wall and--”

“I know, little bird. I don't know what happened, but I'm here now. Still got that ‘package’ to deliver, don't I?” He smiled at her and kissed her gently. “Hope you're ready to sign for it.”

“Sandor…” she whispered as he tugged at her shirt.


	4. We Might Need Some Help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, just to clarify, Lysa's first husband was not Petyr. It was Aron Santagar. I went back to chapter 2 and added that in to Sansa's dialogue with Sandor. Sorry for any confusion!

**Day 3, 11:08am**

Sansa woke to loud arguing, her headache still a dull throb. She looked around, but Sandor wasn't there. Throwing back the covers, she got up and opened the door to see Bronn and Brienne going at it, screaming at each other. Still no Sandor. _Was it a dream?_ Considering how much he had pounded into her, but she had no soreness and could walk just fine, she had to conclude that it _had_ been a dream.  _I guess my subconscious just really needed the comfort._ It was disappointing, but as soon as they found him, she was dragging him home with her and making him fulfill every promise he had given her.

“What's going on?” she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Tormund has gone missing now,” Brienne said. “And this asshole isn't letting me go look for him!”

“You're not going off alone when _TWO,_ count them, _TWO_ trained professionals have been abducted by this Oiwa!” Bronn was red in the face from all the yelling.

“Where's Beric?” Sansa asked. The two of them looked around.

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE!” screamed Bronn. “Beric, I swear to the Father, if you're just hiding and haven't been abducted, I will kick your fucking ass myself!”

“Maybe...maybe we should call the police?” Sansa suggested. Bronn shook his head.

“Police can’t do anything in this case, and besides, they won’t even listen until they’ve been missing for twenty-four hours.” Bronn punched the wall.

“Oi, don’t damage the hotel. We have to pay for it if you do,” Tormund said, hitting Bronn in the back of the head.

“Tormund! You’re...you’re here!” Brienne said in surprise. “We thought you had gone missing!”

“Miss me, darlin’?” he asked, grinning madly.

She blushed and said hotly, “Of course not. I was just worried as your _temporary_ teammate. That’s all.”

“We only went to get coffee, breakfast tacos, and donuts. I told Bronn,” Beric said, handing a box to Brienne.

“Uh, no, you didn’t,” Bronn said, grabbing the box. Tormund scowled at him and gave Brienne a taco. “Tormund was monitoring the video feed. I went to take a shit, and when I got back, he’s gone. Brienne came in, she wanted to search for him, we started arguing. Sansa came in, pointed out _you_ were gone, and then we’re talking about calling the police and here we are. You’re here. Not missing. And with donuts. I can’t stay mad.”

Beric snatched the box back. “I can. I stood right in front of you, told you we were going to go get something to eat. I asked you want you wanted and you said _donuts._ You said you wanted _donuts._ Do you _not_ want the donuts, or do you?”

“I do...but I swear I didn’t talk to you! I was taking a shit. You can go in there and smell for yourself.”

“Ugh…”

“Assuming you are both telling the truth,” Brienne said, “Is it possible that this Oiwa could have been responsible?”

“Hmm...doubtful. Oiwa are not known for taking on another’s visage. Maybe an obake, but we know for sure that an Oiwa is present.” Beric sat down at the monitor terminal.

“Can they not be in the same vicinity?” Sansa asked. She took one of the tacos from the bag Tormund had left on the table.

“More like it’s extremely uncommon,” Beric answered. “The only entities that really _mingle_ are your standard ‘don't even know they're dead’ or ‘unfinished business’ low level ghosts. I'd say up to level four. Oh, Lollys is on her way, Bronn.”

Sansa watched with amusement as Bronn’s face went from normal to white to a full on blush. “Why would I care about that? She's got no business in the field. Too dangerous for her.”

“She disagrees. Sandor is her friend just as much as you or I. She wants to help.” Beric took a sip of his coffee. “Are you going to go shower or do you want to stink for sweet Lollys?”

Bronn grumbled, but stalked off to clean up. Beric and Tormund laughed. “Bronn's in love with Lollys,” Tormund explained. “But he doesn't think he's good enough for her, so he drowns himself in meaningless sex that ends up leaving him empty and unfulfilled, and just being a general bastard.”

Considering how Bronn had practically accused her of being responsible for Sandor's disappearance, she was inclined to enjoy watching him stew in his misery. She changed her mind upon meeting Lollys. The woman was just about the sweetest person she had ever met, and absolutely in love with Bronn. She decided to cheer for Lollys. It would help keep her mind busy and not go mad from worrying about Sandor.

**********

**3:45pm**

Bronn drew the line at letting Lollys actively patrol the hallways. “You'll stay here and monitor the feeds are you're going back to the office,” he threatened. Lollys, the darling, nodded her agreement and set herself to her task. She was much better at processing all those feeds, video, audio, temperature, and the other ones Sansa couldn't even remember, let alone pronounce. She wondered why Lollys wasn't allowed to come into the field more often, but she supposed Bronn was just trying to protect her.

Sansa and Tormund scanned the basement and first two floors, while Brienne and Bronn scanned the attic, third and fourth floors. Sansa held Sandor's EMF receiver tightly in her hands, willing it to pick up something, _anything,_ that would lead her to him. She had found it lying in the middle of the hallway from where he dropped it in their mad dash to escape the Oiwa.

“Sandor doesn't date a lot,” Tormund said out of the blue. They had finished with the second floor already and were walking down the second hallway on the first floor, towards the meeting rooms, the business center and recreational areas. The first floor rooms on the other side of the hotel had been clear.

“Oh. I know. We've had the past relationships talk. He even told me of some of the lower points, though there were a few he said he didn't want to talk about just yet.” Sansa wondered where the man was going with this.

“Yeah, about eight, maybe ten years ago, he hit rock bottom. Swore off relationships completely. I was the one that convinced him to join Knights and Maidens. Told him he needed to at least try. Got him to promise to give it six months. He got your message the day he was ready to give up.”

Sansa was shocked. “He never mentioned that. That was my second day on the site, actually. Well, first official day, since those questionnaires take forever.”

“Sandor is one of my best friends, but he was a vile son of a whore before he started talking to you. Angry at the world and taking it out on anyone who looked at him wrong. He changed. You’ve been a good influence on him. He’s still a vulgar idiot, but…he’s calmer now, less likely to throw a punch, I suppose. You're lucky to have found each other. I think that it's too early for you two to have your story end. So... don't lose hope. We'll find him.”

She smiled, feeling a little close to tears. It was very touching for Tormund to be comforting her when he must be just as worried about Sandor as she was. Her head still hurt from the headache and the bump from earlier, but hearing his words helped. “Thank you, Tormund,” she said, placing her hand on his arm.

“So, this floor is clear. To the basement?” he asked. He looked uncomfortable with sharing so much, and she smiled. She hoped Brienne could see this kind man underneath all the obnoxious charm.

“Yeah, the stairs are this way, I think. I’ve never been down there.” She led him to one of two doors near the front desk. She saw Bronn and Brienne were headed towards them from the elevators. Tormund grinned when he saw Brienne and walked into the locked door. “Oh! Let me grab the key.” Sansa opened the second door, the one leading to behind the desk and grabbed the key from the little hook. Lollys and Beric waved at her from across the lobby. She waved back, just as the EMF spiked and sent a shrill screech throughout the room. Beric was running towards her. She turned, just in time to see Tormund’s boot collide with her chin. She fell backward, her head spinning as she saw the entity pulled Tormund through the ceiling.

**********

**4:13pm**

_“Fuck FUCK_ **_FUCK_ ** _!”_ Bronn screamed, punching the wall and creating a shallow crater in it. Neither Brienne nor Sansa had the heart to stop him. “It was right there! _He_ was there!”

Beric, Bronn and Brienne had all seen the spirit apparate out of nowhere and attack Tormund, and all had been powerless to stop it. “What do we do now?” Brienne asked.

“Tormund and I were just about to head down to the basement. It’s the only place we hadn’t checked yet.”

“We didn’t find anything anywhere else. Maybe it was trying to stop you from going further?” Brienne asked.

“It’s possible,” Beric said. “If that’s the case, we should proceed with caution.” He sighed. “Lollys and I have been talking about this. We’ve figured out some things, but there’s more questions popping up.”

“I’ve figured out a way to amp up the power on the gauntlets,” Lollys said. Her voice was soft and hesitant. “But if this is indeed an Oiwa, then it will take more than the gauntlets to banish it.”

“I told them of how the original was banished,” Beric said.

“Yes, but the original Oiwa was a woman spurned and had children who could calm her. We don’t know if this one is the same. For all we know, it might not have such a weakness. Spiritually speaking, we could also capture the Oiwa.”

“But our current equipment would burn out before we got it back to the containment field,” Beric argued. “Vanquishing it is our only option. We need to learn more, and we will have to go down into that basement. However,” Beric said, cutting off any objections, “We will need to arm ourselves. Spells, talismans, anything we can get. Lollys, go speak to the witches. Tell them everything. I doubt they will want to come, considering the danger to them at the moment, but any advice would be appreciated. Bronn, you will accompany Lollys. You’re one of the few males the She-Bears will tolerate.”

Bronn scoffed. “Only barely, but fine.”

“Brienne, try getting a hold of Mr. deMyr again. Sansa, you’re with me. We’re going to have to research more, see if we can find something, _anything,_ that might help us.” Lollys and Bronn left, and Brienne retreated to the manager’s office.

“Ok, so we’re looking for someone who died here, was likely betrayed by someone they cared for, and…” Something was nagging at the back of her head again, but the dull throb prevented her from remembering.

“And probably died violently,” Beric supplied helpfully. She nodded.

“You know, my brother Rickon is a major history buff. He loves this sort of thing. He might know something about the history of this place, more than can be found with an hour long search on the internet. No offense,” she said.

He chuckled. “None taken. I do the best I can, but I am not opposed to bringing in experts. So to speak. He probably should stay out of the hotel, just for safety reasons.”

“Oh, well, we can only call him up anyway. He and my other brother, Bran, are currently up North at the Wall with our cousin Jon.” Sansa pulled out her phone and dialed Rickon’s number.

 _“Well, well, long time no speak, San,”_ came Rickon’s voice over the speakerphone.

“Hey, Rickon. Sorry to disturb, but--”

 _“Hold on. Hey, Bran! Jon! Sansa’s on the phone.”_ She heard a scuffle and then two other voices saying her name.

 _“Sansa! What are you up to? How’d your date go? With that Zander guy?”_ Jon asked.

 _“Yeah, Jon said you’ve been talking to this guy for awhile and you haven’t mentioned him to us at all? Shame, big sister. Shame,”_ Bran teased.

“His name is _Sandor,_ and only because you would be jerks about it,” she said, smiling. “But seriously, I have a dire question for Rickon. History.”

 _“Oh, snap. Never thought you’d want to talk history!”_ Rickon sounded excited. She laughed a little. History was just about his favorite thing ever, and it would be easy for him to go on and on about it. _“Shoot, what do you want to know?”_

“Is there anything you can tell me about Aunt Lysa’s hotel?” Beric’s eyes shot up to her. “Specifically anyone who died here after being betrayed?” she asked.

_“Uh, kind of an odd question, why do you ask?”_

She breathed deeply. “Well, I sort of started working here last week, and it turns out we have a bit of a supernatural problem. Uncle Thoros is missing, and the ghost hunting team he hired is trying to figure this out, but we need to know more about who the spirit is. Beric, he’s the leader and currently listening to this conversation, says that it’s likely someone who died a violent death after being betrayed.”

She could practically _hear_ her brothers and cousin exchanging looks. _“Sansa...you know you’re not supposed to set foot in that hotel. Not since the Incident,”_ came Jon’s voice. _“None of us are.”_

“I know," she had actually forgotten, "but Thoros needed help running this place. He wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t, you know how proud he can get. He wants to do right by Aunt Lysa. How could I say no to that?”

 _“I know,”_ Bran said, sighing heavily. They all loved their uncle dearly. _“Ok, but you have to be careful, alright?”_

“I will.”

_“Ok, so there is one person that comes to mind. It was from a really long time ago, before the land was even used for the town you now live in, Sweetrobin City. Long ago, when the Vale was ruled over by the Arryns. The house seat was called The Eyrie, for which Aunt Lysa’s hotel is named after. The Lord Protector was a child, Robert Arryn, and his mother was the regent in his stead, oddly enough, also named Lysa. She sent many people to their deaths through the Moon Door, in her son’s name, but she wasn’t the first. The Eyrie was located high above the Valleys of the Vale, a supposedly impenetrable fortress. The Moon Door was hole in the highest room, the throne room, that could be opened up and people were thrown through. The Lady of the Vale remarried, but not even a month later, she went through the Moon Door. Officially, she murdered by a jealous court favorite, a singer, but there were other reports that she was murdered by her new husband, a man she was deeply in love with, but hadn’t been allowed to marry before because of his low status, but he was awarded a lordship for helping the King.”_

“So the spirit we’re dealing with is this Lady Lysa?” Beric asked.

_“Possibly, but probably not. Her new husband, he committed suicide by jumping through the Moon Door. See, he had been manipulating one thing or another to gain his ultimate goal, to rule all of Westeros with the woman he loved as his queen, but he made a mistake. In all of his careful planning, he ended up causing her death in an event known as the Red Wedding. He went a little mad from that, and took in her daughter, who looked exactly like her. The daughter, however, was in love with another man, and while she took to his teachings, she did not want to be his wife. She caused his downfall, and in his insanity, he believed his one true love to have betrayed him and killed himself.”_

“But what does this have to do with the spirit?” Sansa asked.

_“That’s the rub. The Moon Door’s victims all landed in the same spot in the Valley, and that spot is where Aunt Lysa’s hotel is built. The sky high castle was dismantled soon after the lord’s death, destroyed by the man who your city is named after. He was actually one of the best rulers the Vale had, once his mother’s and stepfather’s influence was gone.”_

“Well, I’m not going to be able to sleep ever again. What was this lord that committed suicide?”

_“It’s funny. Aunt Lysa has the same name as the Lady Arryn. The lord she married has the same name as her old boyfriend. The one she dated after Uncle Aron died. Petyr. Petyr Baelish.”_

Sansa sucked in a breath. _Petyr Baelish._ She had been so young when it happened, the Incident. _Could it be related to what’s happening now?_ she thought.

“Do you know the name of the woman he was in love with? The one he caused to die?” Beric asked.

_“Unfortunately, no. Just that Lady Arryn was a poor imitation of her. There’s no description of Lady Arryn either, except that she had dead eyes like a fish.”_

“Thank you, Rickon. May we call you again if we have further questions?” Beric asked.

 _“Of course. I’m always happy to talk about history,”_ he said. Sansa muttered her goodbyes and disconnected the call.

“You didn’t mention you were related to the owners,” Beric said quietly.

“I didn’t? Oh, I suppose I told Sandor. Before he… I guess I forgot to mention it to anyone else in all the excitement. Sorry. I didn’t mean to keep it a secret.”

“It’s alright. What were they talking about? You’re not allowed in the hotel?”

She sighed and leaned back. “There was an incident when I was a kid, I think I was eleven. My parents brought us here to celebrate my aunt owning the hotel for a whole year and doing marvelously with it. She was dating a man who lived in the hotel, a resident she inherited from the people she bought the place from. Petyr Baelish. He was creepy. My mother arrived later than the rest of us, something to do with work. As soon as Petyr saw her, my siblings and I saw the change in him. Jon, my cousin, was living with us at the time, so he was around for it. There was also Robb’s friend, Theon, who was staying with us for the summer, because his father wasn’t suitable as a parent. Petyr attacked my mother, called her his long lost love, tried to rape her, I think. My father managed to get him off of her and he ran away. He disappeared for a few days, and we thought that was the end of it. Then one night, he appeared in our room. All the kids, there were seven of us, were staying in one room, and our parents were in the next. Petyr tried to suffocate us one by one, but Robb, Theon and Jon fought him off. He started a fire, preventing us from leaving and trying to kill us all. He didn’t make it far though. Uncle Thoros saved us, he had been invited to the one year celebration, too, and it was what led to him and Aunt Lysa falling in love. Petyr hasn’t been seen since. The police looked for him, but his room was completely vacated and there were no leads to where he might have gone. Knowing what I know now... Is it possible that the ancient Petyr Baelish possessed the modern one? Seeing as how both he and my aunt share names with them? But if that's the case, why attack my mother? What could she possibly have to do with any of it?"

"I have no idea. I suppose it's possible the modern Baelish was possessed, but then what happened to him?"

"This hotel...you know it's a tourist attraction, The Haunted Eyrie Hotel. Brienne wasn't kidding that people go missing. If the modern Baelish pissed off the ancient Baelish, then it's entirely likely that he was swept off to wherever everyone else who disappears goes." She leaned back and grabbed a cold taco from the table. She took a big bite, chewing slowly as the silence hung between them. "My parents told us we must never return to the hotel. But it was so long ago, I didn’t even think about it until I started working here.” _That’s what that nagging feeling was...I can’t believe I forgot about that._

“Strange..." Beric said, not really listening. "You know, you might be right...he sounds like a man possessed.”

“Oh!” Beric looked at her. “Sandor said the same thing, except about Uncle Thoros. I completely forgot about it. He’s been acting screwy for weeks. I thought it was just… His family has a history of dementia, so I thought it was that.”

“No luck reaching Thoros,” Brienne said, walking back into the room. “I even called every place I can think of that he might frequent. He hasn’t been to the hospital in weeks.”

“That’s...that’s really unusual,” Sansa said. “He loves Lysa more than his own life. He visited her everyday for the past year!”

“The past year minus the last seventeen days,” Brienne said. “The hospital has been trying to contact him, with no luck. He’s only been missing from us for the past two days. Where’s he been going if he’s not going to the hospital to visit Mrs. deMyr? Where is he now?”

Sansa shook her head. “Who knows.”

“If he’s indeed possessed by either the ancient Petyr Baelish or by Lysa Arryn, then he could only be possessed within the confines of the spirit’s territory, which would likely be this hotel. That would mean he _has_ to be here, but we haven’t seen him at all. Of course, that’s _if_ he’s being possessed by one of them. Without seeing him for myself, I would have no way of actually knowing for sure.” Beric looked at the video screens, but Sansa suspected he didn’t see them. “When did Mr. deMyr start acting strangely?”

“Oh, let’s see, he’s always been a bit strange, but I would say about a month ago,” Brienne said.

“Did anything happen a month ago? Maybe involving the basement?”

“Nothing particularly exciting. We rented out the ballroom for a charity event. They asked to store some things in the basement, and Thoros helped them. Other than that, we don’t use the basement for much. It’s mostly left alone as far as I know. Why do you ask?”

“We’ve discovered some new information. It seems that this hotel is located on top of the site of many deaths, likely the reason so many other deaths occurred here after Sweetrobin City was founded. That many bodies, that much death… Their blood and flesh would have saturated the very ground the basement was carved into.”

“So we really need to get down there,” Sansa said. She looked over at the basement door, just barely visible at this angle. _Sandor...are you down there?_ She itched to run downstairs, to find her man and take him away from this insanity.

“Bronn and Lollys will bring help, one way or another. We just need to wait for them,” Beric said, a warning tone in his voice. “The last thing we need is someone going off on their own. Why don't you go rest a bit more? You haven't gotten enough sleep.” Sansa nodded, wondering if she could find a way to get away from Beric and Brienne.

**********

“Sansa.”

“Sandor?” Strong, warm arms enveloped her and she sunk back into his solidness. “You’re here.”

“Like I’d leave you alone here,” he whispered, turning her around and kissing her soundly. “There are some things I haven't told you, but that can wait. This is a dream, but I’m really here. I was here earlier, too. That was me. I wasn't aware that it was a shared dream until I woke up, otherwise... I probably would have done things much differently. Like _not_ break the horror movie rules, and tell you more about what happened, though I'm only half certain of what went on. But you’re in danger, Sansa. You have to get out of here.”

“How am I in danger? You and Tormund are the ones that are missing.”

“Only because he’s looking for _you_. You’re shielded somehow, but when you touched us, he sensed you, possibly because both Tormund and I have psychic abilities. He is... He  _was_ blind in some aspects. The spirit, Petyr Baelish, he’s strong and growing stronger. I’m not at full strength right now, or else I would fight him. I’m not sure how long I have. You have to leave here, and get somewhere safe.”

“Lollys and Bronn are bringing back help. We’ll go into the basement and we’ll find you.”

 _“No!_ Sansa, you _have_ to leave. You have one defense against him, and the stronger he gets, the less that defense can protect you. _You’re_ his focus. Remove the focus, and his power will diminish. The longer you stay, the more likely he’ll find you and… and I don’t know what will happen next. I can’t see as well as I usually can. Tell Beric everything I’ve told you. And that Tormund is here with me. We’re ok for the moment. I don't know where we are though, if we're in the basement or somewhere else.”

“Sandor…”

He turned around, looking at something she didn’t see. “No...he’s coming. You have to go, _now!”_ He pushed her away from him and she tumbled backwards into the void.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone who said it wasn't Sandor... It was him :D BUT it was a dream! :D :D :D And neither of them were aware of it being a _psychically linked_ dream. Stuff happens in dreams that sometimes we regret, and other times really really enjoy. :D


	5. We Will See Each Other Again

**Day 4, 12:12am**

“He said all that?” Beric asked.

“Yeah. Does it make sense to you?” she asked him.

Beric nodded. “Sandor’s a priest, of sorts. He’s never been ordained in any religion, but he knows a lot about exorcisms and dealing with ghosts and spirits. He’s a psychic, and he can see things he normally shouldn’t. I should have realized he would try to contact you in your dreams, and I should have mentioned it sooner. Tormund is a former monk, and has the ability to exorcise the spirit once we know what we’re dealing with. It’s not surprising why Baelish took them. They’re the ones most able to banish him without any help.”

“Well, at least we know they’re alive. We have to get them out of there, Beric,” Bronn said. He and Lollys had gotten back while Sansa had slept. She had told them everything Sandor said, except the part where Sandor had told her to leave. _I can’t leave him. I know I should, but I can’t. Sandor, forgive me._

“Can you call your parents, find out more?”

“Yeah, I can call now.”

“Put it on speaker,” Beric said.

She called her mom’s cellphone. It took five rings, but Catelyn finally picked up. Her voice was heavy with sleep, _“Sansa? Darling, is something wrong?”_

She could hear her dad mutter in the background, _“Something better be wrong, it’s two in the morning.”_

_“Ned! Sansa, ignore your father. He’s just grumpy because he barely went to bed a few minutes ago. His own fault, I might add. Now, why are you calling?”_

“Mom, and Dad. I’m...I’m inside Aunt Lysa’s hotel and--”

_“WHAT?! Sansa, we told you to never return there!”_ her father exclaimed into the phone. She assumed her mother had put it on speaker like Sansa had.

“Yes, well, I forgot about that and when Uncle Thoros asked me to work for him--”

_“He would never do that!”_

“Mr. Stark, my name is Beric. I was hired as part of a hunter team to rid the hotel of one of its ghost problems. Sansa told us a bit about what happened to Mrs. Stark, how she was attacked by Petyr Baelish, and how he tried to kill Sansa and the other children. Can you tell us anything else? Who was it that helped you?”

_“You… You’re Beric Dondarrion?”_

“Yes, sir.”

She could hear her parents talk quickly between themselves. _“Alright. We’ll tell you,”_ her father said. _“The thing is...Petyr Baelish wasn’t human.”_

“What??” they both exclaimed.

_“He was a spirit that managed to manifest himself into a corporeal form. When Lysa first bought the hotel, he saw her and was reminded of his lost love. He was able to manifest himself to a form that appeared physical and charmed her so that she would feed his energy and give him more strength. Of course, at the time, we didn’t know this. He courted your aunt, and grew strong enough to appear human.”_

“And when your family showed up at the hotel?” Bronn asked.

_“Lysa and Cat look a lot alike. And Cat apparently bore a stronger resemblance to Baelish’s lost love, so when he saw her, he transferred his focus. He knew his time with her was limited, so he tried to force the relationship on her. He tried to hypnotize her, make her believe she was his, but thankfully, it did not work. When he tried to kill the children…to sever her ties to this world…”_ Ned sighed, and Sansa wondered if Baelish had attempted to kill him as well, once he thought the children were taken care of. _“It was Thoros that helped us. He banished Baelish, but he wasn’t sure if he got rid of him completely. He told us it would be best if we stayed away from the hotel as a precaution. He attempted to get Lysa to sell the hotel, but when they fell in love, he was able to protect her himself, so they kept the hotel. He KNOWS to not ask Sansa into the hotel, to keep her out of it. So if he asked her to work there--”_

“It wasn’t him…” Sansa said. “He really is possessed, isn’t it?” There was silence on the other end of the phone.

“It would seem so,” Beric said.

Her mother’s voice came over the line, fraught with worry and fear, _“Sansa, Thoros cast a protection spell on you, but it will only work for so long. He wasn’t a practiced hunter like Mr. Dondarrion, more like a dabbler with just enough power to be of use. You must be careful, darling. I would rather you not stay there, but you’re a Stark and a Tully, and have the combined stubbornness of both lines. I will be flying into town as soon as I can, so you better not get into anything serious or else I will draw you over my knee and spank you, young lady, I don’t care how old you are.”_

“Yes, Mother…” Sansa said weakly. Catelyn meant it.

After they hung up with her parents, Beric drew the new plan up on a notepad. “Ok, so this is how it’s going to go down. Bronn and Lollys will stay at the base as backup. Sansa, Brienne and I will go down to the basement. Sansa, you will take point, and you will be the bait. He knows you’re here, but Mr. deMyr’s protection spell is shielding you. I will not take down that spell, but he should be able to at least sense you. Brienne, you will stay behind Sansa, be her physical shield. Bronn will show you how to use the new weapons the Mormonts have lent us.”

“I would be a better teacher,” a new voice said. They all turned to find a young girl, about seventeen years old, her arms crossed over her chest and a little black cat hanging on her shoulders. Her hair was braided back into a crown, the long brown locks cascading down her back from where the braids met. She was dressed in nearly all black, a plaid button down shirt over a tank top, pants with a _lot_ of pockets, and had kohl lining her eyelids. A small black velvet bag hung from her hip, and two small white bear pins in her hair stuck out amongst all that dark color, on either side of her head. _She must be one of the witches Bronn went to see._ She certainly looked the part.

“For fuck’s sake,” Bronn said, covering his face with his hand. “Lyanna, your mother specifically said you were to _not_ join us.”

“I know. I disagreed. You need help, and you can just tell Mother that I hexed you. She’ll believe that.”

“Aren’t the Mormont witches in the middle of a war with the Bolton witch doctor?” Beric asked.

Lyanna shrugged. “I _may_ have ended it already,” she said, though her cocky expression suggested she had definitely ended it. “You can tell your little boytoy his daddy has been stripped of power and his home is free for the taking.”

Beric blushed, but said, “Ramsay is more interested in practicing his own craft and separating his reputation from that of his father than taking back the Dreadfort estate, but I will let him know. If you’ll be joining us, I assume you will want to be part of the initial team and not the backup, so you will be with me. Assuming Plan A does not work, we need to create a vanquishing spell for this Petyr Baelish as Plan B, and Sansa will be the distraction.”

“I thought she was the bait?” Lollys asked.

“She can be both, dear,” Bronn answered.

“Who will be doing the circle?” Lyanna asked. She drew out a piece of what looked like chalk from her hip bag. “I’m fast and accurate.”

“You may have the honor then. Now, I think we should wait until the sun is up, as the spirit’s power is multiplied by the moon’s presence in the sky,” Beric said.

“Typical hunter that doesn’t know jack squat,” Lyanna said, pulling a book from her hip bag that looked quite larger than the bag itself. Sansa stared. “It’s a bag of holding, dearie,” the little witch said with a grin. “New to this sort of thing? You’ll get used to it. This is my grimoire, by the way.” She flipped through the pages as the book hovered in midair. “According to this, moonset is just after three in the morning today. I would highly suggest we all get some sleep. I can cast a protection spell to keep out the things that go bump in this hotel.”

“Will it keep out, um… Sandor talks to me in my dreams,” Sansa said. “Will it keep him out?”

“The psychic one? Hmm...no, it shouldn’t. Spirit waves are different from psychic ones. Different wavelengths, basically. It should be fine. Now, where are we sleeping?”

**********

“You’re finished, Lord Baelish,” Sansa said softly. He glared at her in quiet fury. They were in the throne room of the Eyrie, the wind howling as it passed over the open Moon Door. She wore a thick Northern dress of dull yellow and black, warm even in the freezing room. “Soon, the queen will be here, and you will have to answer for your crimes.”

The screech of the queen’s dragons could be heard in the near distance. “You were to be _my queen,”_ Petyr spat. “Betrayed by my one true love.”

“You mistake me for someone else. You do not love me, my lord. You love the one I look like.” Gone was her bastard mask, and in Alayne’s place stood the daughter of Eddard and Catelyn Stark, with eyes as cold as the snow of her homeland. “My husband will take you into custody now.”

The Hound stepped forward, the mask her beloved Sandor wore when he needed to protect her. “Come along quietly, Littlefucker. Or don’t. Makes no difference to me,” he growled from behind Sansa.

Baelish grinned, reminding her of the madness that had taken hold of her aunt Lysa. “Oh, my dear Cat. Ned could never take my place.” He was too close. A sharp pain exploded in her belly. She gasped as he twisted the knife into her gut before wrenching it from her body.

_No!_

She fell back against her husband’s hard body and he cradled her in his arms. “Sansa!”

“Weak,” whispered Baelish, as he stepped behind the kneeling Hound and slit his throat. Sandor choked and fell to the floor and Sansa with him. “You should have chosen me, Cat. You would have lived as royalty. Now you and _Lord Stark_ will just die slowly.”

“I’d rather die a thousand times by Sandor’s side then live even one lifetime at yours. My mother, Catelyn Tully Stark, would say the same about Eddard Stark,” she said, no venom in her words, just the simple and plain truth. Baelish’s face twisted with rage, and stepped backward through the Moon Door.

She hugged Sandor’s head to her chest. “Oh, my love, my Sandor. We had too short a time together.” She kissed him, putting her fingers to the blood pumping out of him, then drew three runes on the floor. She did the same with her own blood, retracing the runes. “With this blood, I pray for another chance. With this love, I bind our souls. With this kiss, I seal the pact,” she whispered, and kissed Sandor’s lifeless lips. “I will see you again, my Sandor. You can count on that. Death is only the beginning.”

**********

“I told you to leave,” Sandor said, though he didn’t look surprised to see her.

“How do you know I’m not back home, safe in my bed with the plush dog you gave me last month?” The little black dog had joined the grey wolf plush and the red bird plush he had sent her previously. Her heart was pounding and she felt out of breath from the previous dream. _What was that?_ She prayed that it was not a vision of the future.

“Because I know you.” He kissed her lightly. “We don’t have much time here. He’s collecting the souls trapped in the hotel, using them to become stronger. He knows about the witch. That’s why he needs the extra boost in power. And what you saw, it was no dream. It was a memory from your… _our_ past life,” he said, cutting her off from telling him they were on their way.

“That was us? Really us?” she asked.

“Yes. We didn’t die among the many who went through the cursed Moon Door, and we were able to be reborn, to live again, to meet again, to fall in love again. You cast a spell, magic of the old kings of Winter.” He grasped her chin in his hand and tilted her face upward to meet his. His eyes looked so sad. “Stay safe, little bird.”

“Sandor…” She fished into her pocket and pulled out a key, pressing it into his palm. “Take this.”

“What is it?”

“A key to my heart?” she tried to joke. He laughed a little and kissed her. “I will find you. I promise.”


	6. Death Is Only The Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a long chapter. But it all winds up, and I didn't feel like separating the epilogue. :P

_“You were with her, weren’t you?”_ the spirit hissed at Sandor. He had tried to stay awake, to keep away from Sansa in the dreamscape, to try and protect her. Baelish would find her so quickly through Sandor’s psychic link and he couldn't let that happen. He opened his eyes and looked at the decrepit corpse of Petyr Baelish. His ghostly form sometimes took a physical, yet gruesome, aspect. He stank of mint, his very breath a putrid reminder of the once sweet scent the man had favored. He remembered his previous life now, all of it, and he remembered how much he hated the man. Even before his little bird entered his life, he had hated the Master of Coin. _“She will be mine. My lovely Cat. We will rule Westeros together. She will bear my children, sate my lusts, and help me become known as the greatest man this world has ever seen.”_

Sandor refrained from saying anything. Baelish was ranting again. Sometimes he knew he was in the modern world, sometimes he believed he was still alive in ancient Westeros. He had seen spirits do this before, but none ever quite managed to annoy him as much as Baelish. Tormund was passed out, unable to stay conscious for too long at a time. The third man in the room, Thoros, had been driven mad by the near constant possession, and was drooling as he babbled gibberish. He had been there when Sandor had woken up. Well, he had been there before, but Sandor thought he was just a lump of clothing or something. Baelish must have either grown tired of Thoros or Thoros was of no more use to him. He leaned his head back and let his thoughts drift to the past.

 _Sansa was my wife once before, though briefly. She loved me despite how horrible I was to her, despite my physical appearance._ That wasn’t entirely true. He had done everything he could for her, had wanted to do more. She had loved him physically as well as emotionally, finding pleasure in their bed for the short while that they had had together. _She saved us, while I failed her. She still wants me in this life, even bound our souls together for eternity. The things we do for love… Fate seems to think I should always be burned. Fucking fate. At least it wasn't Gregor in this time around, seeing how he wasn’t born, though that IED wasn’t much better. And at least it wasn’t as bad as the first time. No bone showing, so there’s that. And it’s more healed than in the last life._ He only hoped that this life would not repeat the previous one, with them both victims of Baelish’s jealousy and deceit.

 _“She would love me if not for you,”_ Baelish hissed at him for the hundredth time. Sandor rolled his eyes. _“Or...she would love me, if I WERE you…”_ Sandor frowned as Baelish descended upon him.

**********

**Day 4, 3:10am**

“The hour of ghosts has ended, the hour of the owl is upon us,” Lyanna said in quiet prayer. They were poised in front of the basement door. “May the Maiden protect us, the Mother guide us, and the Crone give us strength. We humbly beseech the spirit of the birds to aid us in our quest.”

Sansa wore iron bands on her wrists and neck, the only protection she had been allowed. Any more than that and it would have tipped off the spirit. If Baelish appeared and tried to touch her, the iron would burn him. She led the little group down the stairs, holding her flashlight and Sandor’s EMF meter tightly. The soft high pitch whine of the EMF brought little comfort, though it showed that the spirit wasn’t near them. _Not yet anyway…_ The plan was simple. Get downstairs. Draw a containment circle. Search for the missing three. Evacuate them and deal with the spirit later. At least, that was Plan A. If the spirit appeared, the containment circle was part of Plan B. And Sansa was to be the bait, to draw the spirit into the containment. It terrified her, but if it was the only way to capture him, she was willing to subject herself to this. If the containment circle didn’t hold him… _No. I cannot think like that. Sandor said belief can enforce or weaken the magic that goes into these things. It WILL hold him. I believe in Lyanna’s power._

“Everyone,” Beric said, his voice low, “Lyanna will draw the circle. The rest of us will search for the missing. Keep a look out, and if the spirit approaches you, _run._ We don’t know what he will do, so just get out. Got that? Good.”

The basement wasn’t particularly complex, but it was on the large side. There were four main storage areas, and several smaller closets that all remained mostly empty. Brienne had explained that Lysa didn't want a lot of clutter and since they hardly used it anyway, it was kept as a space guests could rent to store things. Sansa held a hastily drawn map, which was marked with the places she and Brienne were supposed to check. They walked slowly, listening for any sounds, and whispering the names of the missing. Sansa wondered if it really was the most effective way of searching, but she had promised to abide by Beric’s rules. Brienne stayed close to her, decked out in talismans and with a special shotgun designed to hurt spirits like Baelish. “Rock salt, blessed by the old gods. Hurts like a bitch for humans, and will blow a hole through a spirit like you wouldn’t believe,” Lyanna had said. She armed herself with a longer than normal crowbar, that had etched incantations in it, hooked into her pant loop as she began drawing the circle. Unlike the circle in the safety zones upstairs, this one was designed to ensnare instead of keep out. She only hoped that the cocky witch really could back up all her talk. Her cat, Jorah, was at her feet, glowing slightly as he became a focal point for Lyanna’s power as she drew. 

Apparently, Lyanna’s uncle had done something extremely stupid a long time ago and gotten himself hexed into a cat form. None of the Mormont women were willing to help him return to human form unless he worked off a debt he owed them, so he became Lyanna’s familiar and protector when she was a baby, and ended up deciding to stay as a cat to help her reach her full potential as a witch. Plus, he loved belly rubs too much.

“Really wish one of us had some kind of psychic locator power,” Brienne whispered. “This place is creepy.”

“I don't know, some paint, a few flowers, couple of throw pillows…”

Brienne snorted. “Young Frankenstein? Really?”

“If I don't laugh, I'll drive myself mad with worry and fear,” Sansa replied with a sad smile.

“Fair enough. I find anger to be more my speed. I'm so going to punch Thoros once I get my hands on him.”

“I thought you might work out your anxiety with Tormund,” Sansa said slyly. Brienne gaped at her. “What? You seem to get along well, and he looks like the kind of guy who could spar with you.”

“Oh! Yeah, he boxes. I thought you meant...something else.” Brienne was turning bright red.

“Why, Ms. Tarth, he is not a piece of meat, and you should respect him as a person!” Sansa teased. Brienne just turned redder. “It's ok, you know. To like him.”

Brienne scoffed. “What's to like? He's pushy and loud and way too hairy.” She looked into the open doorway they passed as they made their way down the hall.

“Hairy can be nice.” Sandor’s naked form came to mind. “So very nice.”

“You're impossible,” Brienne said but she was smiling. “I don't know, I just-- Did you hear that?”

There was a scraping sound and a footstep. Scraaaaaaape, stomp. Scraaaaape, stomp. It was getting closer. Scraaaaaape, stomp. Scraaaaaaape, stomp. Whoever or _whatever_ was just a few feet away, just around the bend in the hall. Scraaaaaape, stomp. Scraaaaaape, stomp. _Thud!_

Her heart was hammering away inside her chest, a scream threatening to escape. _Oh gods oh gods oh gods!!!_ She felt Brienne's hand on her shoulder, ready to pull her back if need be.

“San...sa…”

She gasped and rounded the corner. “Sandor!”

Brienne was right behind her, radioing Beric to let him know. Sansa helped Sandor up to a sitting position. “Sansa, I'm going to go to the end of the hall to meet Beric. You going to be ok here?” she asked.

Sansa was staring at Sandor, with what _must_ have been the goofiest grin ever, and said, “Yeah, I'll be just fine.” Brienne jogged away, not wanting to leave the two unguarded for long. “I've been so worried, Sandor. I missed you so much.” She had been remembering more and more of their past life. Not all of it, but that would come in time, she hoped.

“Kiss me and prove it,” he said with a sly smile. She giggled and leaned in, her lips touching his hesitantly at first, but then he pulled her in and kissed her like a man desperate for water in a desert. His hands roamed her body, but instead of the pleasant shivers from their first night and the dream sexcapades, she felt only revulsion. She pushed him away, alarm bells ringing in her head. “How I've waited for this day, _sweetling.”_

She froze. _Sweetling? No one calls me that, except…_ She scooted further from the man in front of her. “You're _not_ my Sandor.”

He was wearing Sandor's body, but it was all wrong, the smile, the eyes, kiss… _oh gods, the kiss…_ She wiped her mouth, trying to get rid of the feeling. “Can't say I blame you, Cat. I'd want to rid myself of Ned's touch as well,” Baelish chuckled.

“Get _out_ of him,” she hissed. _“Get out of him!”_

Baelish sighed. “And here I thought you would welcome me back, ugly though this body is.”

“Sandor’s body is the most beautiful I've ever seen. And his soul even more so! You, on the other hand, I've never seen a more corrupt and disgusting display. You are less than human, even when you were still alive.” She scoffed. “Sandor's body and soul belong to me, so if you have _any_ self preservation, you will give him back before I am forced to _take_ him back.”

“You couldn't hurt him, sweetling. His weakness is you, and your weakness is him. That's something I have learned since we were separated. Despite our love, you care for this mongrel. It's admirable, but he's just a pet.” He grabbed her arm. “I will have you, sweet Cat, one way or another. Funny thing about this land. If you die here, your soul is trapped. Doesn’t matter how it happens, murder, suicide, old age, you’re trapped. And sweetling, you have no idea the things I could do to you once I have you trapped with me. I have power here, power over the other souls and I _will_ have you, whether you will it or no,” he sneered, pulling out a dagger. Even a sneer on Sandor’s face looked wrong.

_Sandor of ancient times could stop grown men in their tracks with a good scowl. This one couldn’t even scare a kitten._

“There was a man who I tutored nearly two hundred years ago, who was obsessed with what a gun could do to the human body. A pity he died away from the hotel, he would have loved these new modern machines, especially the G36C. Even I can admire that one, such a wonderful machine for killing. I taught him that it's the fear one should savor, the face they make once you’ve broken them, not the method. Now, this dagger, it's no G36C, but dead is dead, and the last thing you’ll see is your _beloved husband_ murder you. That’s all you’ll remember once your soul is mine. I will make sure of it.”

“No. You're wrong,” Sansa said, a small smile playing on her lips. She wasn't scared anymore. Sandor was in there, somewhere, the man she loved, and above all else, the man she _trusted._ Somewhere deep inside, he was still _him._ She remembered their past life, all of their interactions, all the fear, the hurt, the pain, the separation, the reunion, the love. “Sandor would never hurt me. That is the one thing I can be sure of, no matter what our incarnations are. Do your worst. _He won't hurt me.”_

Baelish scoffed and raised the dagger high above his head, “Your faith in the Quiet Wolf is misplaced, my darling Cat. I will help you. I am the only person you should have ever trusted.” He grunted as he tried to bring the dagger down.

Sansa looked up. The dagger was still poised above his head, but the arm wasn’t cooperating. “Something wrong?” she asked innocently. He glared at her. “I told you. He won’t hurt me.”

Baelish redoubled his efforts, the dagger lowering slowly as the arm trembled. _He can’t win against Sandor._ The tension between Baelish and Sandor suddenly broke and the dagger came down. Sansa watched in horror as it buried itself to the hilt in Sandor’s shoulder. _“Buggering hells,_ that hurts,” he rasped.

“Sandor!”

“One moment,” he said, letting go of the dagger and dipping his fingers into the blood oozing from the wound. He quickly drew some symbols on the wall. “Akuryo Taisan!” he yelled and hit the symbols with the flat of his palm. They glowed and there was brilliant flash of light. Sansa felt a whoosh of air, heard the EMF whine go crazy, and then both the light and sound subsided. “Well, this sucks,” he said, looking down at his shoulder. “But at least that fucker is out of my body.”

"Sandor..."

"Don't worry about me." He reached into his pocket and pushed something into her hand. She looked down and saw the key she had given him in their shared dream.

"How... I thought..." She handed it back to him. "It's yours, either way. Key to my apartment."

He laughed, though it sounded painful. "You've got some talent, little bird, but we'll talk about that later. For now, help me up. My shoulder feels like it's been stabbed or something."

Sansa helped him rise to his feet. Beric and Brienne were running towards them. “What was that?!” Beric demanded. He looked at the bloody symbols on the wall. “You were possessed?” he asked Sansa, taking Sandor and helping him stay upright.

“No, I was. Managed to take back some control, stabbed myself, and then used the pain as a focus to keep Littlefucker at bay while I exorcised him. We should go though, before he tries again on someone else.”

“He can’t leave the hotel,” Sansa added. “So as long as we get outside, we should all be fine.”

“Alright, but where’s Tormund?” Brienne asked as they walked towards the stairs.

Sandor shook his head. “Inside a sealed off room in the basement. Baelish used spatial manipulation to get us in there, basically just phased through the walls. We’ll need some heavy machinery to get to him, unless Littlefucker decides to use him as a meat suit for a while. The other one is pretty much worn out, uh...Thoros, I think. Your uncle,” he said to Sansa. “He’s been joyriding around in him for a while now.”

Sansa nodded stiffly. “I know… I knew he was acting strangely. Why didn’t I see it sooner?”

“Oh, so you found one?” Lyanna asked, tossing the chalk in the air nonchalantly. “And the others?”

“We’ll need to come back for them. We have to get out of here. The spirit is looking for a new host. I don't think this containment circle is going to do us much good.” Beric pushed past the witch, helping Sandor up the stairs. “Help Brienne guard Sansa.”

“Can do! Oh, by the way, I can’t be possessed. Magical talisman. I can get some more for the rescue mission later.”

“That will be fine, but let’s discuss that later.” Beric pushed open the door and led them out to the lobby. “Well, shit.”

Sansa craned her neck to see and gasped. Bronn had his arm around Lollys’ neck, holding her in place as he pressed Baelish’s dagger into her neck. She was close enough to see the small drop of blood trail down the woman’s neck as she whimpered in fear. “Looks like he found his next ride,” Sandor said dryly.

“I didn’t want to use this one again, seeing as how ineffective he was earlier, but it was either him or this fat cow here. You didn’t think I’d let this go so easily, did you?” not-Bronn asked. As with Sandor, the features were the same, but the expression was not. It was clear to see that Bronn was not in control.

“For a moment there, I kind of did,” Sandor muttered.

“Is this _really_ the time to be quoting movies?!” Brienne hissed at him. Sansa wanted to giggle despite the dire nature of the situation, but Brienne went on. “What do you want, spirit?”

“Ah, the Maid of Tarth. Did Jaime Lannister ever get between your legs, or did that redhaired wilding manage to take off with you? I always wondered what sort of man would want a beast like you,” Baelish said.

Brienne was shocked. “Wha--”

He looked down at Lollys. “And you? Did you find happiness with your upstart sellsword of a husband? Did you spread your legs for him like the insipid cow you are and give him heirs as lowly as him? I could have told Cersei provoking _Ser_ Bronn was a bad idea, raising you two up to that level. Threw a wrench in my plans, but the Stokeworths were just a minor cog in my grand design, easily replaced.”

He turned to Beric. “Lord Dondarrion. I heard the wildest tales about you. Seems you can’t stay dead? I’d love to find out.”

“I’d love to show ya,” Beric growled. “Why don’t you exchange Lollys for me, and see what happens?”

Baelish giggled. “I don’t think so. Who else is here? Ah, the youngest Mormont. Still plain as ever. Chin up. I’m sure some bear will take you as a mate. Your uncle Jorah was lucky enough to grace the bed of the last Targaryen. Oh wait, no, she bed everybody _but_ him, didn’t she? Even her own nephew. Shame that was.” Jorah the cat hissed at Baelish. “Now, as to what I want, that should be obvious. I want my Cat. I want her to stay here with me for the rest of eternity. We will rule this little limbo of ours and finally be happy.”

“That was always your problem, Petyr,” a voice behind him said. Everyone turned or moved to see who it was. Catelyn Stark stood there in a grey dress with a white overcoat, the hood up and framing her face, making her auburn tresses stand out even brighter. “You never understood what really made me happy.”

“Mother!”

“Hello, darling. I thought this might happen. I had hoped it would never come to this, but…” Catelyn threw a flute through the air. Sansa caught it as her mother clapped her hands together, the sound ringing and echoing in the lobby. “One, to bind the soul.” Baelish froze and Lollys was able to wriggle free. “Darling, play the fifth harmony, just like you’ve practiced. Pull Bronn to safety, dear,” she directed at Lollys. “He will not want to be possessed when I finish with Petyr.”

Lollys hesitantly pulled on Bronn’s shoulder, but was able to pull his physical body from the spectral one of Baelish. He staggered back, leaning on Lollys for support. Sansa took a deep breath and started to play the wind instrument.

Catelyn clapped her hands together again, and again the sound reverberated across the space. “Two, to cut your earthly chain.” They heard the clear sound of a _snap._

 _“Cat...no, what are you doing…”_ the glowing spirit asked desperately. He looked just as Sansa remembered him, pointy beard and all. She thought she even smelled that awful mint scent he was always clouded in.

“I can’t have you bothering my sister or my daughter any longer. We were all granted second chances at life, Petyr, and you would have been, too, if you had just learned to let go of the past.”

_“How can I let go when we were meant to be? We would have been so happy, so powerful…”_

Catelyn sighed. “And I see that you will never learn. So be it.” She clapped her hands together a third time, the sound vibrating throughout the whole building, shaking it as strongly as an earthquake. Dust from the ceiling fell and the crystal chandelier hanging from the entrance clinked as it shook. Power thrummed to Sansa’s very bones as she watched her mother extend her arms and look up. “Three, to cast the spirit out. I am a Daughter of Air, Sister to the Bat, Mother to the Wolves of Winter. I call upon the pact of the Wind to the Heavens, lend me your power. I beseech the Stranger, to guide this lost soul to the next life, be it in the seven heavens, or in the seven hells. Guide him to the River of the Dead, and let him find his peace, or his torment.”

The ground rumbled and cracked across the lobby, the widest part of the rift below Baelish. _“Please, Cat… I need you… I love you…”_

Two figures rose from the rift, one dressed in long black, ghostly robes, the other in a white toga, shining golden like the sun. “We are here, Catelyn of the Whent line,” the golden one said. “We come for the one known as Petyr Baelish.”

 _“Long have you avoided our reach,”_ the dark one said. _“You have much to answer for.”_

“Now, now, we must do this by the book,” the golden one said. A delicate hand extended out and grabbed Baelish, ripping his ghostly heart out, and it became solid as the golden one held it. Scales appeared between the two figures and the now beating heart was placed on the scale. The dark one reached into its robes and pulled out a feather. “This feather represents the neutral. It is neither evil nor good, neither lawful nor chaotic. It is the standard we set for the universe.” The feather was placed on the other end, and the scale was set into motion. No one, except Baelish, was surprised when the heart was heavier than the feather.

_“No! I still have so much to do!”_

_“Your time is done, mortal.”_ The dark one grabbed Baelish. _“You have been judged. To the Seventh Hell with you, may you repent and be given a second chance. Though I seriously doubt it.”_ The two figures descended into the rift, dragging a screaming Baelish with them.

Sansa continued to play, until the rift was sealed. If she hadn’t been standing right there, she would never have guessed what had just happened. “What was that?” Sandor asked her.

“I… I don’t know. Mother taught me to play the flute when I was younger, and to sing. Old Nan said the melodies I learned were of the Old Magic, and that they were powerful spells, but I never believed her.” She looked down at the flute in her hand and wondered what else she had been taught but knew nothing about.

“Well, that was exciting!” Catelyn said, coming up to her daughter and hugging her tightly. “Your sister is going to upset that she missed that. She loves a good exorcism.”

Sansa gaped at her mother. Sandor stepped in to cover for her. “Mrs. Stark, I take it?”

“Yes, and you are?”

“Sandor Clegane. Your daughter and I… we’re… uh…”

“Dating,” Sansa said, breaking out of her shock. “We’re dating. Casually, for the past four months, but I think we’re ready to be more serious.” She prayed that Sandor was on the same page. After everything they had been through, after everything they had remembered…

“That’s...that’s right. Ma’am,” Sandor said, putting his uninjured arm over Sansa’s shoulder. “But...can I just ask, what just happened?”

“Oh that. Well, let’s get you patched up, and I’ll tell you.” She lead him over to the nearby table and pulled supplies out of pockets that should not have been able to hold that much stuff. Lyanna whispered _bag of holding,_ and giggled. Bronn and Lollys were sitting at the monitors, making notes about what just happened. Beric followed Sansa, Sandor and Catelyn, while Lyanna and Brienne got ready to go back downstairs. A quick chat with Sandor gave them the information to be able to find Tormund and Thoros. Lyanna was excited to try out a new implosion spell she had designed.

Catelyn talked as she treated Sandor’s wound, applying a salve as Sansa played another melody at her request. “What you just saw was an invocation of an ancient pact. I was able to invoke it because of my bloodline. I was born a Tully, but my mother was a Whent. She kept her maiden name when she married my father, but she gave her children his name and I took my husband’s name when I married, both are very rare occurrences for the Whent women. Like the Mormonts, Whents are gifted in the supernatural, though Mormonts are witches and Whents are psychics. The power is passed from mother to daughter, and both my daughters are gifted psychics, though Sansa’s talents lie toward a more passive use while her sister Arya has a more active control over her abilities, like my own. Sansa’s comes out in her music, though she doesn’t practice it as much anymore.”

“I practice!” Sansa said, interrupting her song. “I just don’t perform in front of anyone...except Sandor.”

“She has played for me before,” he confirmed to Catelyn as Sansa restarted her music. Beric chuckled, but had yet to say anything.

“That’s wonderful, darling! It makes this next part easier. You would be a great help to your sister’s practice, you know. She’s been running with a wild group, nearly getting themselves killed on even the simple jobs. I think you should join her. Oh, you can stop playing now, dear. The medicine is working and, Sandor, you will just fine in exactly twenty-four hours. Make sure you don’t wash any of that off until then.”

“Mother, why am I just now learning this?” Sansa said, sliding into the chair next to Sandor. “And how did you get here so quickly? Winterfell’s six days away by car, with the way you drive, and four or five hours by plane, assuming you could catch a flight at that hour.”

“Darling, I took the Cessna over. Cut my travel time by several hours,” Catelyn said. “Oh! Right, you haven’t been home in a while. We bought a Cessna, top of the line. Your father got his pilot’s license last year, and he’s been itching to fly. I made him wait to be absolutely certain that’s what he wanted. He’s waiting for me at the airport, probably passed out. Again, his own fault. I could have asked Jory to fly me instead, but he insisted.” Sansa shook her head in disbelief. “As to why you’re just now learning it… Your father didn’t want you to use your gifts the same way Arya and I do. You would be in more danger, as you don’t really have offensive powers to rely on. I disagreed, but your father wore me down.”

“Why did you wait to deal with Baelish?” Beric asked. “All of this could have been avoided…”

Catelyn looked down in shame. “I know… When it first happened, I should have. I could have. Your father doesn’t know that Lysa and I helped Thoros banish Petyr. Petyr attacked him while Thoros rescued you, and he nearly died. We found Petyr, we _hurt_ him, we could have been done with it right then and there. But I remembered the past life I had, when we were friends, growing up together. I hesitated when I should not have and he escaped. I couldn’t find him after that, as he was thoroughly weakened and in hiding. I couldn’t stay here and wait for him. I thought that if Thoros protected Lysa, and the children stayed away from the hotel, it would all work out. It was a foolish hope, of course, but…”

“Wait, you remembered him?” Beric asked.

Catelyn nodded. “All of us, everyone here, has been reincarnated. The Long Winter killed the entire world. Historians don’t know this, of course, but before that happened, a young girl wished to save her love.” She looked as Sansa. “It started with a whisper of a prayer, invoked by an ancient ritual she learned from Old Nan, but with the power of her blood, a thousand years of the Old Kings of Winter, flowing in her veins, her wish was answered. When the world ended, the gods started over. The newly reborn humans picked up where the old had left off, though the rebirth of humanity took a few hundred years because of the Walkers. The gods preserved everything, so that when we picked up again, it would be like there was no interruption at all. It was like a reset of life. The first souls were reborn into a ‘modern’ world, at least, modern for them, and for the most part, the same links and alliances were made. History believed that we were nearly wiped out, not completely destroyed. We only know of the old history because of Oldtown. Tomes from all over the world were taken there, preserved by both man and god. Rickon spent a year there, remember? He earned a few maester links, too,” she said with pride. “Few remember their past lives, and even less know of how it came to be. And anyone who notices any similarities chalks it up to coincidence. Rickon called me at five in the morning once, to tell me he found a Catelyn Tully once married an Eddard Stark, and he just laughed the entire time.”

“How do you know, Mother? Of the world ending?” Sansa asked. She had linked her arm with Sandor’s and was leaning on his good arm.

“Because I was the only one alive who was also dead. Everyone around me fell, but I remained. I had been resurrected by Lord Beric Dondarrion of old,” she said, smiling. Beric looks startled. “He gave his life so that I may live. I was twisted, corrupt, fueled by vengeance, but the gods took pity on me. They put me to sleep while they remade humanity, gave us a second chance at living. There were a few, like Petyr, that were trapped. As the eldest daughter to the Whent line, I have the ability to release the chains that bind them to this earth. I am starting to think that I should use my gifts to do so, before they become bigger problems like now.”

“I can recommend you to some groups, Mrs. Stark, if you wish.”

“I would appreciate that. I would also like to help you out in the future, should you need it.” She handed him a card. “And I should be getting back to your father. I asked Jory to tag along, and he’ll be able to fly us home. Will you walk me out, darling?”

“Of course, Mother.” She kissed Sandor, who had started chatting with Beric. She walked her mother to the door.

“The other ghosts that inhabit this place should return in time,” Catelyn said. “They are in hiding at the moment, as far as I can tell.” She turned to her daughter. “So, what do you say to joining your sister’s team?”

“I… I’m not sure, Mother. As you said, I’m not really equipped to take on the supernatural the way you are, and I know next to nothing about this world. I’ve heard lots of stories about it, from Nan, from the news, but actually diving in headfirst… It seems like a bad idea.”

“Well, of course it is! You’re just a little baby bird, who’s managed to fly a few inches. You’ll learn, darling, as we all have.”

“I… Sandor’s been teaching me, ever since I learned he was a ghost hunter. I think… I’d like for him to continue teaching me.” She blushed a little. “He’s patient with me.”

“You really love him? The Hound.”

“He’s not the Hound anymore. I’m not sure he ever was where I was concerned,” she said wistfully. “But yes, I love him. I apparently loved him enough to invoke a rebirth of humanity.” Catelyn laughed. “Do you not approve?”

Her mother sighed, and pushed a lock of hair behind Sansa’s ear. “Long ago, I would not have. But this is a different time. If he makes you happy, then so be it. I’ve been so happy with your father. When I met him again, I didn’t even look once at his brother Brandon. I knew we could be happier this time around, and I seized that opportunity.” Catelyn raised her arm as a taxi approached, but it passed them by. “You know, it’s funny. Last time, your father was the one that had magic in his blood. This time, it was me,” Catelyn said with a small laugh. “He doesn’t remember our previous life, however.”

“And you’re alright with that?” Sansa asked.

“Mmhmm. Some things are best not remembered. Your father would blame himself for so much if he knew.”

“Sandor remembers. He has psychic abilities, and he remembers all of it. I’ve only remembered parts, but they were important parts.” Sansa looked down at the flute in her hand. “I don’t know if it’s better or worse that he remembers. There were some very terrible times.”

“You have time to make up for those times. This is a new world for you, and the possibilities are endless.” Catelyn kissed Sansa on the forehead as a taxi pulled up. “Tell Brienne thank you, for keeping you safe. She did always try to keep her promises. Be good, darling. Mind your manners, and if you have any questions, I’m only a phone call away.”

“Thank you, Mother,” she said as Catelyn slid into the back seat. Her mother blew her kisses and the taxi pulled away.

She walked back into the hotel lobby to find that Brienne and Lyanna had succeeded in their rescue mission and had not brought the hotel down on everyone’s heads. Tormund and Thoros were looking well, considering, though Beric was going to be driving the lot of them to the hospital. Bronn and Lollys were staying behind to clean up, and Lyanna offered to help. Bronn didn’t let Sansa stay, insisting that she needed to go and be with Sandor.

_Maybe he’s not so bad after all._

**********

They were running for their lives again, but instead of fear, he could tell Sansa only felt exhilaration. They led the goblin dog down the hallways, into the trap room Lyanna and Tormund had prepared. Sandor and Sansa crossed over the magic trap circle easily, but for the goblin dog, it was like slamming into a solid mountain. It snarled and hissed at them. _Ugly son of a bitch,_ Sandor thought. He almost missed the time when they dealt exclusively with ghosts and spirits. Ramsay, the fuckity fucking hobbit Beric fucked, had joined the group as well, and between him, Lyanna and Sansa, their hunting group had the ability to take on nearly every job thrown at them. Sometimes they even teamed up with Arya and her ragtag group on bigger jobs.

Once Sansa had her breath back, Sandor watched as she pulled out her flute and sat in front of the creature, just inches from the edge of the circle. Sandor hated it when she got so close, but the closer she was, the more effective the song was. She played a binding lullaby, until the poor, mangy thing bowed in submission to her. She reached her hand through the magical barrier, ignoring Sandor’s exasperated, “Sansa!” She had a way with animals of all sorts, including supernatural ones.

She giggled as the goblin dog licked her hand. “He likes me!”

“Of course, he likes you, lass,” Tormund said. “All the creatures you charm like you,” he said with a grin. “Though the first one charmed seems to be getting jealous.”

 _I’m not jealous of some supernatural dog that’s uglier than me,_ he thought viciously. He wanted to banish the damn thing and be done with it.

Lyanna released the goblin dog from the magic circle and it followed Sansa as she went over to Sandor. “Don’t be mad,” she said softly.

“You keep taking chances. Of course I’m going to get mad,” he huffed.

“It wasn’t a _chance._ I knew exactly what I was doing. You’re just being overprotective, like always.” She gave him a smile smile, and he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but of course he was being overprotective. It was his job, as her supervisor in field and her husband. “Are we going to send him to the dark plane?”

“That’s what we always do,” he said, looking down at the ugly beast. It was lolling its tongue, panting and sitting on it’s back legs. He half-expected it to beg for a treat.

“Can’t we keep him? He was just lonely for human friends.”

“Please tell me you did not bond with this thing,” he said, covering his eyes. She had a bad habit of doing that.

“His name is Fred,” she said with a grin. He couldn’t see it, but he _knew_ it was there. She was messing with him again, making up things on the spot. “He wants to be friends, I swear.”

He removed his hand from his eyes and glared at her. She kept grinning. “If I promise we can go to the pound and get a _normal_ dog, will you let me send him back to his home dimension?” She had been begging for months that they should get a pet. They had married and moved in together a year ago, only two months after the Eyrie Hotel case, to a nice little house with a big yard, perfect for a dog or three, or children, if you wanted to listen to Catelyn. Ned just patted him on the back and led him to the tv room to watch whatever game was on when Catelyn started in grandchildren. His sister was almost as bad, and Sansa was more likely to listen to Alys, but thankfully, Sansa didn’t want to force having kids. “If it happens, it happens,” she would say.

“I really do want to keep him, you know,” she said with a slight frown.

“I know. But he’ll be happier with his own kind, and in the end, that’s what you want, for _Fred_ to be happy?”

She rolled her eyes and sighed, but nodded. “Yes, that’s what I want. Fine, but I’m hugging him goodbye.”

“You’re taking a shower as soon as we get home, missy.” Goblin dogs stank, and he did _not_ want associate his wife with that smell.

 _“FINE,”_ she said with a laugh. She knelt in front of Fred and hugged him. “You be a good boy for mommy, and go back to your home, ok?” The damn dog fucking _smiled_ at her and barked an agreement as Lyanna ripped open an interdimensional hole in the middle of the room.

 _Oh, for fuck’s sake. You are not getting jealous of a dog from a demon plane!_ He was, but he felt he should at least deny it. Granted, it didn’t take much for him to get jealous when it came to Sansa. It was his own feelings of inadequacy, and not due to anything she did in particular, so he did try to keep it tamped down. She waved goodbye at Fred and he jumped through the portal, happy to do his mistress’s bidding. Sandor couldn’t blame him. She was a pretty good mistress to have.

After they had cleaned up and informed the client that their problem was gone, they all headed out to their respective homes. Bronn was finally going out with Lollys, though it had been Lollys who had asked him out. Having been so close to death, she didn’t want to waste another moment waiting for him to do the asking. Tormund was in a committed relationship with Brienne now, who still worked at the hotel, though Brienne denied that they were serious, all while Tormund smirked and kissed her cheek, making her blush as he whispered in her ear. Brienne had been promoted as well. Lysa had woken from her coma a few months ago, and decided to put Brienne in charge, so that she and Thoros could take a break from the business  

Once they got home, Sandor pushed Sansa into the shower, but soon joined her, complaining that she wasn’t getting rid of the goblin dog stink correctly. It was a poor excuse, and they both knew it, but neither cared.

The next day, as he had promised, they went to the pound. Sandor filled out the application as Sansa wandered through the kennels, looking for their newest family member. He found her with two adolescent dogs, little more than puppies by his eye. One was all black, and the other smaller one was a light grey. She was letting them climb all over her, giggling as they licked her face. He looked at the ID card for the two pups. _Siblings, highly recommended to not be separated. Well, shit. She’s going to want both._

“I want both,” she said, and he was only half certain she couldn’t _really_ read his thoughts.

“No.”

“But it’s Lady and Stranger!”

He pointed to the card. “According to this, they’re Fluffer and Nutter.” He guessed that the light grey one was Fluffer, considering how poofy its fur was. _Poor pup. Didn’t the person naming it know what an awful name that is?_

“No, Sandor, _it’s Lady and Stranger!”_ she said with excitement.

He looked down at the two pups. Familiar eyes looked back at him. _Well, I’ll be damned… Guess we’re getting two pets after all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha ha, what did you think?
> 
> Shoutout to Rougefox! Her Halloween fic directly inspired Catelyn's magical lineage. I originally had it as coming from the Tully line, but changed it to Whent. :D Bats are so much cooler than a trout, which is what the Tully sigil looks like to me.  
> Anyway, you should check out her fic if you haven't already. [She Kept Herself Safe](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8454499) It's a bit odd, but in a great way for a horror fic. Uh, check the tags before reading though. Just to be on the safe side.


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